Stones Taught Me to Fly
by flying feather scribbles
Summary: [Sequel to "Lucky Enough to Live"] Anti-mutant and Anti-superhero laws are reality now. They aren't the only problem for the Rand family at the moment, though. Danny is king of K'un L'un, and his family is in mortal peril. His wife and child are forced to flee, and, somehow, his daughter Lilly ends up with Ava and Peter Parker, just married in this whole mess.
1. Homesick

**A/N: This is my sequel to "Lucky Enough to Live" (the 3****rd****book in the Lost Series). It is by no means necessary to have read this story's predecessor, as it should make sense without it, but you may, nevertheless, enjoy it as it provides additional information on my characters' pasts.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ultimate Spider-Man or the quotes. I do own my OC's and the idea.**

**Chapter 1: Homesick**

"_**Family.**_

_**Like the branches on a tree**_

_**we all grow in different directions,**_

_**yet our roots remain as one."**_

_**-Unknown**_

I sighed, weary after traveling for so long. Mom said it was urgent. Apparently we were going to see some of her and Dad's old friends. I missed K'un L'un, and Dad. For a seven year old girl, though, I was unusually mature, and well aware that there was a crisis at home—just not sure what the crisis itself actually was.

The hotel bed was comfortable enough, an expensive feather mattress with silk sheets, but it was nothing like my bed at home, which had always reminded me of being wrapped in clouds. Beautiful clouds. I had always admired the view K'un L'un had provided, but only after leaving the sacred city had I come to truly appreciate the pure, untainted nature of the magical place. Here in New York, the aroma of cars and smog was pungent and overwhelming to my delicate senses. I realized that I had been pampered in K'un L'un, that not everybody was so blessed as I had been.

I had never considered myself to be above others. Despite my father's position of authority, all of the children treated me as their equal, and I to them. It was simply the culture. Sure, we had respected those of power, but greatness in K'un L'un was entirely different from that of the outside world. Jewels and other adornments had beauty, which we valued, but not as much as the sheer wonder of the world around us. To be rich in K'un L'un was to be wise, kind, balanced, experienced; to be skilled at our ancient arts, a faithful friend, a loving member of your family, a believer in our faith, an avid learner, a curious character, a brave warrior; such spiritual, physical, and mental achievements determined your worthiness, and your value to the city.

Here, though, I began to see why the Elders had always called the outside world tainted and without honor. There was truth in those words. You only had to look around you to see the crime and murder that people committed day-to-day as though it were as normal a thing to snatch a passing woman's purse as to breath the polluted air of New York.

Yes, I knew my life in K'un L'un had been blessed and protected. I had everything that I had needed, everything I possibly could had wanted. Not to say that I was spoiled, because I was not—lessons of the spirit were most important, and no one hesitated to enforce such into my young, impressionable heart.

I knew, though, that this was no time to complain. It was a time to be strong for my mother. She was struggling with herself. Mom missed Dad as much as I did, probably even more, for we had not seen him in over two years. It was hard to believe that I still ached for my friends and family in K'un L'un, for the peaceful serenity of the mountains.

Tossing and turning, I could hear Mom in the bathroom, talking on the phone. "Yes, yes... I told you, all I need is their address... No, I am _not_ an assassin, I'm an old friend of theirs... If you want money, I can pay you! No—I am serious, deadly serious..." Her soft, warm voice soothed me, and my eyelids drooped.

**...**

"Lilly, sweetie, it's time to get up. Rise and shine." Mom gently shook me, and I obediently slipped out from underneath the covers and began dressing myself.

My thick, wavy black hair was unruly, and no matter how much I brushed it, it refused to be tamed, so I did not even bother trying this morning. I still wore clothing from K'un L'un, though it was not the traditional attire; Mom wanted us to 'blend in' while still keeping our beliefs close to our hearts (as she put it), so everything was handmade from our homeland, but in a more 'normal' design. My shirt was a gentle green that matched my eyes, with white flowers dancing across the fabric. The neck was bordered by silver braiding, and the sleeves were long, also trimmed with identical braiding. My pants were a creamy white, and both my top and bottom were loose and billowing. For shoes, I wore silver slippers, that, although not well suited to the rough sidewalks of New York, were my absolute favorites. On many occasions, Mom tried to convince me to wear something more practical, but I was stubborn; anything that reminded my of Dad must stay, and so it did.

"Where are we going today?" I yawned.

Mom's lips pressed into a thin line. I remembered her talking over the phone a few days ago, and saying something about us being 'followed'. She was worried about some shield tracking us. Briefly, I wondered if she meant Captain America's shield, because Dad had told me stories about all of the people he had met. One time, a friend of his lost Captain America's shield. The memory made me want to laugh, but I knew it was not an appropriate time, so I suppressed the giggles.

At last, she said, "I've scheduled a time to meet with an old... _acquaintance_.He should be able to tell us where my friends are."

"Is Captain America's shield following us, Mom?" I ask, my thick eyebrows furrowed in concern. Being seven, I could not hold back my worries for long, especially not one that had such potential.

Mom laughed. "Where did you get that idea?"

"You said a shield was tracking us." Immediately, I could tell that this was the wrong thing to say. Mom's eyes darted around nervously, and she wrung her hands the way she did whenever she was uncomfortable. She had been doing that a lot lately.

"Do not mention that again," she murmured quietly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is an extraordinarily dangerous government agency that would love nothing more than to find us and _him._" By him, I knew she meant my Dad. Nowadays, she didn't dare to say his name aloud even in the so-called privacy of our hotel room.

I shudder; the evil of government organizations was a sore subject for Mom, and she had never ceased to inform me of the dangers involved in anything with such people. Besides, anything to do with the outside world was untrustworthy. The monks themselves had told me so.

"Now, we have to go. I have to meet Mrs. Parker at seven, and if we don't hurry, we'll be late. Please put on a coat."

Since K'un L'un was in the mountains, I was used to running around in a tank top in the midst of a deep freeze, but here in New York, they wore coats nearly all the time. Part of 'blending in' was following such traditions, things so deeply engrained into their everyday lives that it would be a great blow to society if one young girl were to go without a jacket!

At least my coat was from K'un L'un. It was soft and familiar against my skin, and I admired the delicate, hand carved wood buttons up the front of the coat.

"Hurry," Mom said with urgency, and we both slung our bags over our shoulders. Each of us had only one messenger bag of possessions, it being all we could carry. I grasped her hand tightly, and Mom lovingly pulled my hood over my face. She donned a dark blue cape, which glittered in the harsh artificial lighting.

On the front desk, she carelessly deposited a wad of hundreds and told the cashier to keep the change. I knew little of American currency or language. Whenever Mom and I spoke, though, she forced me to use the harsh foreign words of those New Yorkers, to allow us to fade further into the crowd. The crowd was plenty big, too; there were countless people roaming the city, many more "odd" than ourselves.

Despite being able to pronounce the sounds of the English language (somewhat), I still lacked in literary skills. I could write, read, understand, and speak numerous other tongues (Dr. Strange had even taught me one or two magical dialects when he stopped by the monastery for sugar); I had always been quite good with words, and poetry came naturally to me. Truthfully, Dad had said I was gifted in the Arts in general, and I enjoyed all forms of creativity.

Mom jerked me from my thoughts, pushing me into a passing taxi. The driver grinned at us, eying Mom. She was pretty, I suppose; her brown hair fell to her waist, and her sparkling eyes never missed a movement. She was well-muscled from years of training in martial arts beside my dad, and she knew Kung Fu, as well as being a fourth degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. A year of Uzun Uyku, the Long Sleep, had sharpened her mind.

The driver scared me. His teeth were yellowed from tobacco, and his breath stank of alcohol. Impurities. Mom draped her arm over my shoulders protectively, and firmly told him, "Eighty Ninth Avenue, please."

I detested motorized vehicles of any sort. They were untrustworthy, and, to be frank, made me want to barf. The smoke and fumes emitted from them- disgusting. This man's driving was especially unpleasant, and I struggled to keep the bile from rising in my throat. At the end of the ride, he demanded his money, and after Mom had dropped a few twenties in his open hands, we stepped out and he sped away. I was thankful that I would likely not ever have to face him again.

The street was filled with people, but Mom dragged me off towards one particular shop, head to the ground. A strong, confident woman with short white hair waited. She smiled warmly at me. "Hello. You must be Mrs.-"

"Please," my mom said in an undertone, "we go by the surname 'Pond' for secrecy."

"Of course, Mrs. Pond. This would be your daughter?"

"Yes, Lilly."

"You're quite pretty," she smiled, kneeling down to my height. "Your eyes... they're exactly like your father's, but with your mom's sparkle." Standing back up, she shook Mom's hand.

"Thank you, Mrs. Parker. I know how much of a risk this is, nowadays."

"I owe it to you." Mrs. Parker glanced down at me. "I'm assuming you want Peter's address?"

"Please. Or any of the team's."

Mrs. Parker's smile waned. "I haven't been able to keep in contact with them. They just, you know..." She trailed off, her voice desolate and hopeless.

"Yes, well... I am sorry. If I find them, I could tell you- but the risk of knowing these people is too high," Mom muttered. "We ought to hurry."

"Yes, well, Peter still lives in the Big Apple, thank goodness. Here's the address." She handed Mom a slip of paper, which Mom slipped into her cloak.

"Thank you. I will burn it." Mrs. Parker nodded in approval, and before either of them could say another thing, Mom whisked me down the street, hailing another cab. This time, the driver was a talkative middle aged man. The journey lasted for what seemed like forever to me, but, fortunately, I had learned patience many years ago. Throughout the drive, the cabbie tried to spark conversation, but Mom and I clammed up.

Eventually he pulled up to a house, and after his fee, hurried away, because all these people really cared about was money. We were lucky to have plenty of that.

The walk up the driveway seemed long, and I observed the various cracks spidering up and down the pavement. At the door, Mom knocked a few times, then we waited. I heard footsteps pattering closer, and the door creaked open to reveal a woman. She had bronze skin, with neatly trimmed hair. I could tell from the dark, fitted tank top and skinny jeans that she was well-muscled.

"Hello, Ava Ayala Parker." My mom slipped the hood from her head, and the woman gasped; her eyes widened, and she stumbled into the wall behind her.

"What—what the _hell_?!" she sputtered, and my mom pulled me closer. "You- you- PETER! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!"

"WHAT IS IT?"

"YOU—GET THE EFF DOWN HERE!"

"JEEZ! QUIT IT WITH THE YELLING- ohmygod," a man gasped, appearing behind the woman. "Are you-?"

"Yes. I am. And this is my daughter, Lilly."

**...**

That first night was mostly swearing, yelling, talking. My mom explained everything to them. They must have conversed throughout the night; I, however, was asleep by ten. That was the last time I saw Mom that I can remember. When I woke in the morning, the woman told me that my mom had left me in their care. It had finally become too dangerous, I suppose.

I learned the couple's names. Ava and Peter. They were my mom's family—the closest friends she had. Truthfully, they had little explanation for anything Mom had done. My mom had always been secretive, and in spite of their long talk, they knew virtually nothing about our situation. I wasn't about to tell them anything, either.

Peter sat down with me at breakfast that morning. He told me that he, too, had grown up with his aunt and uncle when his parents died. It was different for him, though, because his parents wouldn't ever come back. He didn't ever have that same kind of hope, yearning, wondering when they would return—for me, there was no 'if'. This was temporary. It must be. Peter's situation had become a permanent, unchangeable fact of life.

Still, I nodded. I understood what he meant. Peter was trying to say that he knew a bit of what I felt like.

I didn't feel abandoned, like most people would have. I simply felt alone, living with strangers.

**...**

The next month was the hardest, as I began to get to know these people. I found their ways just as hard to accept as they did mine. What surprised me most, though, was that these people were different, like me. Peter and Ava had certain abilities; they were superheroes. Peter said that they were, anyways, before the laws against mutants and superheroes. Technically, all three of us were breaking the law simply for existing.

Peter, I found, was funny. He was quite smart, with dozens of quips at his fingertips. Ava was firm and disciplined, but kind. She reminded me of some of the warriors back in K'un L'un.

They did force me to attend school, which I hated, though I survived in the end. The other kids were rather cruel and unwelcoming to my unique and unconventional take on things. At least Peter and Ava allowed me to continue taking martial arts classes twice a week, which was comforting for me. The movements were familiar and reminded me of home.

Even now that I'm thirteen, I still stick out like a white cloud on a stormy day. I don't think that any of the other kids have even noticed that I'm a mutant, but that would probably be because I am, like my parents, secretive.

To be honest, the other kids tend to leave me alone now. When I was younger, I would meditate during recess, but now that isn't a problem, because I don't have recess. Ava laughs at me when I practice yoga—I guess my dad was a lot like me when they knew him.

Seriously, though, my main problem right now is the dragon in the backyard.


	2. Sort Of

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the quotes or Ultimate Spider-Man. I do own my OC's and the idea.**

**Chapter 2: Sort Of**

"_**Not until we are lost do we begin to truly understand ourselves."**_

_**-Henry David Thoreau **_

When I woke this morning, I had a bad feeling. Everything seemed to be tense, waiting for something to happen. I am an extraordinarily patient person, having waited for eight years to see my home again, but that has never stopped me from having my ups and downs. Throughout it all, I have always said, _They're coming for me_. I count the days, telling myself that _maybe _next year they will come, and mark off each day, anxiously waiting for the anniversary of that fateful day. Every time, I tell myself next year must be it. Living like that—constantly waiting—has made me a quiet person. Somebody who keeps secrets throughout it all.

The world seems to be waiting with me today, though. Sunday morning. Ava and Peter both left after breakfast; Peter to check on his aunt, and Ava to meet up with an old friend for lunch. I retired to drawing, my passion.

This time, I used my best paper, and a freshly sharpened pencil. I have a tendency to draw familiar things—that is, the things and people that fill me with the dull ache of longing. One of my most cherished memories is Dad telling me the story of Shou-Lao the Undying. I can still remember that day as though it were yesterday. All of his words wove into one magnificent memory, the images they painted so vivid that they seemed to breathe life. At the end, Dad had held his fists aloft, blazing with the yellow light of hisChi. I watched, mesmerized by it, until he kissed me goodnight and sent me off to bed, my mind still spinning with wonder at the sheer power within.

Since then, I have always bore a fascination with dragons. I never trust myself to draw Shou-Lao, but I draw other dragons as it pleases me. Today, she breathed life the same way Dad's story did, her eyes holding lost tales. I could feel her scales rippling beneath my hands, and she peeled herself from the paper.

I love it when my drawings do this. Despite her small form—approximately five inches in length—she is magnificent. Altın-Hüzün is her name, and it suits her. _Golden Sorrow. _Her tail lashes from side to side, and she lifts her heavy wings as if to say, _Look, human; my wings are too laden with your sorrow to bear me in flight, so I cannot join my family amongst the clouds. _Hesitantly, I reach out to touch her, and for a moment a low growel echos in her throat, then she fades away like they all do.

Sighing, I stand to walk back inside. All of my drawings do that whenever I try to interact with them. Otherwise, they simply fade away on their own after a minute or two. Before returning inside, I take the now blank paper and pencil with me. I have had this exact sheet of paper for two years now, and only use it for when I want my drawings to breathe.

Nobody has ever seen my drawings alive, because I don't let them. When Dad comes for me, I will show him in K'un L'un, with the finest ink he uses only to write to the most elite warriors and monks.

I can do it with writing, too, but both require an entire story. The subject must have memories, a life, to breathe, and that is much harder to capture with words—especially _English _words. The sounds here are blunt as ever to my ear, and I hate the harsh grunts my tongue must form to communicate with these people.

It's hard to believe that Mom grew up here, that either of my parents enjoyed living in New York City. Mom must have seen some true beauty here that my eyes skim over, because I see only the evil of these outsiders that I detest. Maybe it's because she hadn't seen K'un L'un yet, or because her family lived here. She had to make her own family, after all, and that couldn't have been easy. Or, perhaps, she loved Dad so much that all they saw while here was the good. That seems unlikely, though, since they fought the bad every day.

Dad would always tell me that the world wasn't black and white, good and bad. There's something in between, and that is humanity. We choose what we are, but we aren't just 'good' or 'bad'. We're human.

Mom said that we choose our paths, that there's a mixture of everything inside of everyone—we each have different challenges, and what sets us apart is how we face and overcome them. Weak people choose the easiest path, but strong people choose the right path.

Funny the way they changed so much over the years. It felt like one day I went to sleep and all was well, then, suddenly, the entire universe was in mortal danger, and we left before I could so much as blink. One day Mom was telling me the joys of her time with her family, then she was lecturing on the evil of the government. One day Dad was telling me the wonder of the world, then he was telling me that they were fleeting and we had to enjoy them while we could.

Well, life is fleeting and fragile. Mom showed me that much.

I always admired the way they loved each other so much. Always. It feels like they gave up everything for me, except that there was more to it than that. There's the key, too.

A loud rapping on the door interrupts my thoughts, and I open it for Ava, who must have forgot her key again. Nowadays, they lock the doors whenever they leave the house. She surveys me, then sees my white pants, which don grass stains from kneeling outside.

"Really? I told you not to go outside when nobody's home!" she snaps, clenching her hands tighter around the stack of papers that she is holding.

I nod, staring at the floor. As if she didn't know that I always did that when they were gone. I never trust myself to draw indoors after the last incident. It was hard to explain the burn marks on the wall, but they believed me, because I never lie. Not usually, anyways, unless it is important. Which this is.

Most days I just let Ava's words roll off of my shoulders, shrugging and mumbling whenever she pauses, but today I pay attention to her chatter. Why? I have this nervous, fluttery feeling in my stomach, like something's about to go wrong.

"Who—who did you meet with to- today?" I stutter, my voice like a slight breeze in June; warm, little butterflies fluttering lazily around my words, but dying down before anything can happen, before anything can truly be said. Spoken words have never favored me, perhaps because I spend so much of my time with pencils and paper that something so fleeting, so invisible to the human eye as a spoken word, that the sounds refuse to cooperate. The harsh vocals required to form English words can't help.

Ava sighs. "Luke."

A little gasp escapes my parted lips as my eyes dart to the papers, then back to the floor. It's been two years since I last heard his name mentioned, and bad news has a nasty little habit of accompanying his brief, infrequent visits.

She throws the paperwork on the counter and turns away. Her voice is bitter as she continues, "He talked to Wade, who has some extraordinary claims. Luke wouldn't tell me where he last saw that scum—suppose that he was too afraid my claws would find their way to his throat."

Wade? As in, Wade Wilson, _Deadpool_? Mercenary scum indeed. He's one that I consider black, but my Dad always said was just human—and Dad has plenty reason to hate him. "Why?" The words cling to my tongue, hesitant to fall into another's ears.

"Nothing. Don't worry."

The nothing part is exactly what concerns me. Ava knows me well, and vice versa; I can hear the tinge of regret in her words, and see the slight quiver of her hand as she chops up carrots for the salad tonight. "Oh," I say dully.

"Why didn't you invite any friends over for dinner? I said you could have someone over if you wanted, you know."

"Oh." _Well, you see, Ava, I'd have to have friends to do that. _

"That's not an answer," she chastises.

"No one wanted to come," I say honestly. It would have been better phrased to say, _No one could come_, which would have been the truth too, but a lesser truth. I want to make up for lying about going outside today, even though I don't feel particularly guilty.

"Wanted?" Ava presses, and I shrug. People don't like me for who I am. They don't like yoga, they don't like martial arts, they don't like meditation, they don't like drawings that come to life, they don't like secrets—nobody wants to know me for who I am, and I'm not willing to change. I am who I am. They are who they are. "You really need to spend some time with kids your age."

I will. In K'un L'un. "Oh." I listen to the steady patter of rain against the windows. "It was sunny earlier today. Hm." I walk away nonchalantly to the backyard. The feeling of rain on my cheeks is refreshing; it makes me feel more alive, somehow.

Sitting in the grass, I place my palms on my knees, clearing my mind. In, out. In, out.

"LILLY!" Ava jerks open the sliding glass door. "DINNER!"

My clothes are soaked through, I notice, stepping into the welcoming house. I bunch up my thin purple shirt, wringing it out, then do the same to my pants. The cloth is wrinkled, but I don't care. I like the cool, damp sensation against my skin.

The salad is good, but nobody talks much except Peter.

"So, why didn't you invite anybody over for dinner?"

"Nobody wanted to come."

Peter shakes his head. "Did you even _ask _anyone?"

"No." I didn't have to. Their answers are woven in their everyday practices.

"You have to talk to people if you want them to be your friends, you know. Getting rid of the _'Zen' _outfit might help too—it's somewhat off-putting."

I glance down at my clothes. They're the same thing as I wear every day; having nothing left from home that fits, I wear only cotton fabric, nothing man made. Usually it's thin and loose. My pants vary, though they're often white or black, and my tops range from sleeveless to elbow length, of all of the colors under the rainbow. Compared to most kids' jeans and tight-fitting tees, they stand out. They also suit me, though. _I'd have to want friends to talk to people. _"Mm."

"Just shut up, Peter, please," Ava growls.

"Why? What happened? Did I forget to change the litter box again?"

"Web head, not now. Later. I'll tell you later." She glances at me again.

_Fine. _I shove the rest of my salad down, swallowing hard. "Thank you. I'm going to practice Kundalini now."

"Go, then," Ava snaps.

I do exactly what I said; Kundalini is another thing that reminds me of my parents. It was something the three of us did together every morning and night. A family. I think that they were planning on having another kid soon, but then everything started falling apart.

It would be nice to have a little brother or sister to talk to. It would be nice to have _anyone _to talk to. Maybe I was just nervous today because it's April. The time until January stretches on, seeming like forever to wait. Eight years is a long time. Sometimes I wonder if they've changed as much as I have.

Does Dad still have unruly blonde hair just past his chin? Do his green eyes still sparkle when he laughs? When he tells stories, do they breathe? Can his fists still glow with the power of Shou-Lao? Are his arms still strong and welcoming?

Does Mom's hair still reach past her waist in a thick black-brown braid? Are her eyes still brown, twinkling like the stars when she talks about her family? When she is nervous, does she still wring her hands? Can she still Dream-walk with me at night? Is she still warm and loving, ready to hold me when I cry?

Then I wonder if they even remember me the way I do them. After all, eight years is a long time. Would they even recognize me anymore?

Of course they would. They would see my Chi, my life force. Mom would laugh and say how my green eyes are exactly like Dad's. Dad would grin and hug me, saying that my wild hair reminds me of Mom, and then she would chuckle softly.

Embracing my fantasy reunion to my heart, I sink into my pillows, exhausted from simply existing.

…**...**

School. Miserably, I roll over, burying my face into the blankets.

"Lilly," Ava hisses, and shakes me again. "Danny's here."

"Danny?" I mumble, the words catching in my throat. Suddenly, I feel wide awake, excitement surging through my veins. "Dad? DAD!"

"Shh," she says quietly, leading me to the living room. The curtains are drawn, and the clock on the mantle shows 2:36 AM. On the couch, a man lays. His blonde hair is mussed, and a thick blanket covers him, but he is unmistakable. Daniel Thomas Rand-K'ai, king of K'un L'un, my father.

My heart leaps up, and I run over into a long embrace. "Lilly," he breaths into my ear. His arms are strong, and he still smells of incense.

When I let go of him again, I see the bandages across his chest, stained red. "Dad?" my voice wavers.

He smiles, trying to sit up further, but Peter pushes him back down. "Woa, Danny. What did you do, get into a fight with Scorpion or some ninjas again?"

Dad shakes his head, squeezing my hand. "This is no joke, my friend."

I can't believe it. Dad is actually here. This moment I've dreamed of for eight years is reality.

"So... you're saying you did, then?" Peter asks.

"Not funny, Peter. Not funny." Ava shakes her head. "Seriously, Danny, what happened?"

Dad's face is grave, and I know that something big is going on. About to happen, anyway. If it didn't already. "HYDRA happened."

Ava swears loudly, and Peter jumps. "Oh, Schnitzel!"

"Why am I so _stupid_? WHY DIDN'T I LISTEN TO LUKE?!" Ava rants.

"They built a 'time machine', as they call it," Dad says tensely, and I seize up. Time is one of those things that you just don't mess with. It's like a straight line, going on forever in both directions, without any beginning or end.

Peter, though, visibly relaxes. "Well, they can't make it work. It's proven. You'd have to be able to go just below the speed of light to do that—I mean, famous people other than myself have done the math! There's no known fuel that can do that in practice. Theoretically, yes. Probability of happening, same as Luke reading _War and Peace_."

"Then our friend must have read such a classic, because it is possible," Dad confirms. I slide against the couch, resting my head in his lap.

"_How the hell is it possible, then?_" Ava growls.

"Emmaline," he says simply.

"They effing caught her?!"

"Certain things are inevitable."

"Danny, _seriously_. It's about time you explain how she's even alive! I wouldn't believe you, but I saw her alive, all broke up and sad on our doorstep six years ago," Peter exclaims, leaning against the wall. "She looked exactly the same as she did when she was nineteen! Like she hadn't changed at all, but she had Lilly with her. God, Danny."

I scrunch myself up, wishing that I could disappear. How can this be happening? Mom's in the hands of HYDRA? We should be starting on our way to K'un L'un by now— we should have started the journey back years ago.

No, we should never have left.

Dad stares at his fuzzy blanket. "She changed her mind last minute to favor her true path."

Peter bangs his head against the wall. "You _suck _at explaining things!"

Yes, well, nobody ever explained anything to me. I was always left to figure things out on my own.

"Friends, I value your lives. Ignorance is a blessing in times like these, and a shield from worse things to come. If I were not injured, I would have come straight here and left with my daughter, but as I am, and you have extended an offer of friendship, I will be invading on your hospitality for the next few days."

Peter stares at Dad, dumbfounded, then says, "That's the longest thing I've ever heard you say at one time."

"Dad," I whisper, struggling to keep the tears from flowing down my cheeks, "can we just go? Please?"

He slowly shakes his head, hugging me to his chest. "No, not yet. I owe you an explanation."

"You owe _her_ an explanation?" Ava roars.

"Yes," he replies simply.

I bury my face into the blankets, oblivious to the argument. At last, my father has come for me. I can be happy and smile now, right?

Instead, I want to cry like a small child. I want to show the world how angry I am, how cheated I feel. We were supposed to return to K'un L'un, the three of us, and live our lives in paradise! Instead, I'm here. Listening to this. Peter and Ava cared for me, and I am thankful, but I want nothing more than to forget them and return home, to my family, friends, my _life. _This can't be my life, it isn't possible! Yet it is.

Sort of.


	3. Into the Mists

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the quotes or Ultimate Spider-Man. I do own my OC's and the idea.**

**Chapter 3: Into the Mists**

"_**Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy."**_

_**-F. Scott Fitzgerald **_

_Grandmother Time had known for a long time about Lilly Rand-Kai. She had first set eyes on the child many years before coaxing her into the darkness of the unknown. Time knew that this child was the key to many hearts, and that this was her sole opportunity to set up her great, sorrowful plan. It had to be done, after all. There was no other way to repair the damage caused. She sighed; all of these lives put into ruins just so she could fix the mess that her husband had created._

…**...**

**Lilly's POV**

The rest of the day, Dad slept. He told me that he owed me an explanation, but that now wasn't the time. In spite of his wounds (which he refused to show me the severity of), Dad said to me that we would leave tonight, and that I had the rest of the day to pack.

I had the whole day to pack. Yet it is already noon, and I have barely started. Dad listed off a few necessities, specifying what I could and could not bring. I take matters of life and death seriously, especially when it is my family at stake. One mishap could kill us all at this point.

He said that I would have to wear all black, to better blend in, but to also pack 'normal' clothes. I already changed into leggings, a tank top, fall jacket, boots, and a 'ninja' mask. I know what we're doing, and why. Just like before, my only bag will be a black backpack.

Inside of it, I resignedly stuff stiff, unworn jeans and a white blouse. Those will do for street wear. I also slip in my yoga clothes, because after so long, I would feel empty without them. Other than that, I pack a water bottle, credit card, toiletries, and my sole gilded knife. When Mom left K'un L'un with me, she forced me to conceal a dagger beneath my coat at all times, in case we were separated. Despite having trained with it for as long as I can remember, I have never had to use it.

I change my mind, slipping the knife under my jacket, where I can easily grab it in times of need. Ava and Peter don't even know that I have it, because my training (alongside many other things) was always a secret to them, a portion of my past that I constantly glazed over as though everything could possibly be nothing. As if I had forgotten what it meant to be of my blood, of my faith, that I had no duties, and was only a young teenage girl, lost in her own little soap opera. Like I had no substance to my existence, that my sole purpose was to wait patiently for my family's return, which may never happen.

From the time I was born, I have been raised with a purpose. Whatever my parents may want for me, however much they love and care for me, no matter what others may think, I have a duty, a destiny waiting for me. I always have, and I always will. The only _option _is to fulfill the prophecies. I have no choice in the matter. We all know this. Even though we may pretend otherwise, it is simply a facade that I can 'live' as an average person.

That's why I can't make friends. Not like most children my age, because I am no child. Mom and Dad have detested the journey foretold for me for as long as I can remember, but their hatred won't change anything—nor will mine, for that matter. I can only accept what I must do.

Maybe Dad is still pretending. After all, I don't need to Leave until I am twenty-five—over a decade away. Pretending is easier, simpler than accepting the inevitable, because harsh truths that are denied hurt much less than silly, unpractical excuses which one knows deep down will expire one day. One fateful, horrific day.

_Later..._

I thought that saying goodbye to Ava and Peter would be easy. Goodbyes are always hard, though, and this one is no exception. Not that they actually know that we are leaving. No, Dad and I slip out of the door while Ava and Peter are in the kitchen.

The street outside is dark, and quiet, yet it pulses with life. Shadows seem to move, and Dad breaks into a run. I dash after him, my heart pounding in my chest. My feet make a soft pattering noise against the pavement, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a knife just miss my heel.

The Karanlık Savaşçı are relentless in their chase. _Their next knife will not miss. _They only miss when they want to, and this was to scare me. Their eyes seek the quivering of prey, lusting for untainted blood, whimpers from an innocent child, and the Savs—as those who commonly associate with such traitors refer to them—are merciless. Rejected by the monks, they wander Earth, searching for those lost people who will be lured into their paths of darkness by want of power, blood, money, or revenge. Savs seek revenge on all that exists for the sin of existing.

I see the streets of New York City lain before me, a winding maze to my foreign mind. Dad whisks around to face the Savs, fighting hand to hand with them. One jerks my shirt, and I immediately jump into a fighting stance, ready for its next strike. A hand darts out, and I parry with ease. Back and forth, a small youth spars me.

It is inexperienced, but I am out of practice. _Scum_, I want to shout to the world, but my tongue is heavy. In this black night, its attire—traditional "ninja" clothing—blends into the shadows, yet mine does in the same way, giving neither of us a particular advantage. Suddenly, I land a solid roundhouse kick to its head, and my foot catches on the thin fabric, tearing its mask away.

Shocked pale, icy blue eyes stare at me. It is a _he. _This is strange—putting a face, a person behind my enemy. It's so much easier to just blindly fight, without any notion of the story behind your opponent. Now I know there is an actual person in this costume, with a name, family, and life. He is young, around my age, with pale, freckled skin and fiery red hair that curls defiantly.

Then I remember. _It _wants to kill me. My hands shoot out in a quick jab-cross-hook-cut kick combination before it can blink, and it falls to the pavement with a soft _oof. _Dad gestures to me, and I hastily follow him. We don't care about the Savs—the only reason we're still standing here is to see if any HYRDA agents show up.

A funny feeling lingers in the pit of my stomach, a nervous, fluttery feeling that I push away as quickly as possible. Those icy eyes haunt me, full of mystery.

Dad places a hand on my shoulder, nodding his head at the dark car cruising down the street. We hail a taxi. The fluttering is replaced by repulsion at the jerky movements of the vehicle, and my dinner swishes around. Dad urges the driver (who, surprisingly, doesn't seem too shocked by our attire) to hurry. Normally, Dad is calm even in the most desperate of situations, but now—

My thoughts are cut off by a harsh screeching noise, and there is a faint hissing noise from the air vents as a green cloud looms before us. The world seems hazy, and I slump forward into unconsciousness.

…**...**

Somebody shakes me, and I blink heavily. The world comes into focus, and I see that I am still in the taxi, slumped over in my seat. Behind Dad, a tall, thin, rosy-cheeked woman stands. She reminds me of a tree, seeming to branch out in a warm, welcoming sort of way. Her light brown hair, bright blue-gray eyes, and earth-toned clothing don't exactly contradict such a description, either. She seems mature, yet only a few years older than me.

"Child," she murmurs, "are you okay?"

I nod, slowly, and hop out of the car. Who is this woman?

As though she can hear me, she says, "My name is Alice, but please, call me Ali. I am your aunt, your mother's younger sister."

My dad stares at her. "You shouldn't be here. What about the—"

Ali presses her finger to her lips, shushing him. Her other hand brushes over her stomach. "Shh. Don't worry. I am fine." Somehow, her voice is calm and soothing, even motherly; something to cling to, something with a vague tinge of familiarity.

"Where is—"

"Dead." Ali's eyes glisten with tears. "The Savs took his life, like so many others, but Danny—he left for a worthy cause."

"He should not have had to die."

"That doesn't change the fact that he did. You know that, Rand." Ali shakes her head. "Somebody's always going to get left behind. That's just the way things are. If you're the person walking away for whatever reason, you're okay, because you're moving on. But if you're the one left behind—there's not much you can do. I mean, you can run after them, but you'll never catch up, just stumble and fall, and nobody will be there to help you up. You can stand there, waiting for the rest if your life. Or you can wave a hearty 'goodbye for now, see you again soon', and choose your own path."

"Fortune cookie's must run in the family," Peter remarks, stepping forward. He's dressed in his Spider-Man costume, and Ava, in her White Tiger uniform, stands beside him.

"Where is Abigail?" Danny says slowly. "And Jacob?"

Ali smiles sadly. "Sofia's on her little killing spree again. I think she might be plotting something, but I can't explain here. Ian is missing. Abby is... angry with you. She doesn't understand what's going on, so she left. Last time I checked her blog, she was in Spain, heading for Paris. Jacob is wherever Em is. I think they took him too." She shrugs playfully. "At least I've got you and Lilly, though!"

"So no family reunion?" Peter asks. Ava casts a spiteful glare in his direction.

"Nope," Ali sighs. "Where are—"

"No more questions," Dad says firmly. "We either can run or be arrested at this point." I glance at the approaching police officers (who cower behind their guns).

"I'm voting for the run, then," Peter gulps.

Ali grins at that. "Race ya." To my chagrin, she scoops me up, and takes off running faster than should be physically possible. Her long, loping legs seem to leap from the sidewalk, as though she is bouncing along or moon-walking, and we quickly leave the others behind. In the distance, I can hear shooting.

At last, she sets me down on the ground, a lopsided smile plastered to her face. Her cheeks glow a healthy pink, and her eyes sparkle mischievously. "Fun, right?"

I shake my head in disbelief. How can one have _fun _at a time like this, when everything everyone has ever known and cared about is at stake? This is greater than any single person's life—this is the simple reality known as _existence _on the line! A minute later, the others have caught up to us.

"Hey, Pete, Ben said he misses you, ya know. Same for you, Tiger," Ali says.

Peter's eyes widen. "He's okay, right?"

"Yup. He loved the truck you got him for his birthday, you know. And don't worry, I got him a '_baby sitter' _before I left," she laughs.

He stares at Ali longingly. For once, Peter has nothing to say. Ava puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing him gently, as though her mere touch should comfort him of whatever he misses so dreadfully. Dad watches them knowingly.

"None of you are coming. This is our battle, not yours. You have another war to fight here," Dad says softly. My heart beats faster. _Our battle_. He means that it's mine too, not just his, and somehow, that makes me feel better. Like I'm more than just a thirteen year old girl, as if I could possibly be of some assistance to him in any way. Then it occurs to me that I'm helping him cope by simply being me, by being his last bit of family.

"_No war, no greed, that would be something to see_," I whisper to myself.

"What?" Peter asks, kneeling down next to me.

I stare at the sidewalk, wishing I was home again, playing in the valleys between the mountains, young and carefree as a child is supposed to be. "I heard it on the radio. It's called 'Something to See', by Tracy Chapman." I pause for a moment, closing my eyes and replaying the song inside of my head. "_They count the targets and the bombs, but they do not count the dead. They do not count the dead._" True words, and I can see they hit the same sore place in Peter's heart as they do mine; even though his face is concealed by his mask, I can hear the emotion in his words.

"Well, there's been war as long as humans have been here so—"

I dare to interrupt him. "_No war, no greed, that would be something to see. I hope I live that long._"

Hope. The word echoes through my mind. All I have left is hope. Hope that Mom is okay, that she's alive, that we can rescue her. Hope that these politicians will change their minds when they see the err of their ways. Hope that my friends and family will be all right. Hope that everything will be okay.

That's a lot resting on hope. When the odds are all against you. Then again, the odds were against my mother, and look at how far she has made it. All I need to do is look around.

Dad's voice jolts me from my thoughts. "Lilly, I will be back soon. I promise. Just wait a minute. Only a little bit longer, _kız_." He starts to walk away, and I want to run after him, but Ali holds me back. I angrily try to kick her, but she simply shifts her weight, avoiding my blows. Screaming, crying for him to come back, to wait for me, but it is to no avail. My voice is hoarse, and my teary eyes, I see the shape of a retreating figure. His head is held high, and his shoulders are set, then he turns a corner, and I lose sight of him.

"He left me." My words are rough and sting, like sandpaper rubbing against an open wound. "_He left me_. I've been waiting for him for _years_ to bring me home again, and when he finally comes to get me, he _abandons _me."

Never before have I used the word _abandoned _to refer to my parents. It's true, though. Dad just left me for whatever fate decides to do with me. Ali lets me go, and I stumble forward, trying to catch up with him. It is impossible, something inside of me knows, but I can't accept that he would do this to me. Not after so long. Yet time is unforgiving; I will never get back those years I spent in limbo, wasted on waiting for him.

I trip, and clumsily tumble to the sidewalk. My hands are raw and bleeding against the coarse sidewalk, but I don't care. Tears spatter the surface, mixing with the steady raindrops now pattering down. Even the sky cries for me.

A wrinkly hand offers to help me stand again, but I don't take it. "Child, do not cry. All who we love leave us eventually. It is apart of the rhythm of life." I look up, into an elderly lady's face. She has sharp gray eyes, and pure white hair pulled back into a messy bun. Black and gold robes are draped over her frail body, but despite her apparent age, her voice is unwavering and strong.

"He'll... he'll come back," I say thickly through my tears. Deep down, I don't believe those hopeful words; there cannot possibly be any sunlight, no gleaming rays of hope, in this storm of war.

"Sadece Zaman gösterecek. Ve Büyükanne Zaman."

My eyes widen in disbelief as she speaks my native language, that which only tongues of paradise may utter. _Only Time will tell. And I am Grandmother Time. _How can this be—?

The lady laughs. "Zaman hayatta bir sürpriz, değil mi? Bu bir mevcut veya geçmiş ile işgal bir iken üzerinde sinsi bir alışkanlığı var."

"Sen sadece konuşmak," I whisper.

"Ah, evet! Biz K'un L'un cenneti çocukları vardır için! Kalp, ruh bir saf görmek, ve savaş arasında burada akla minnetle bir doldurur. Lilly, Kral Daniel Thomas Rand-Kai ve Kraliçe Emmaline Carlson Rand-Kai çocuk gel. Bu büyüklük gidecek." She extends her hand once more, and I take it. Suddenly, we are shrouded by mists, with no clear way. She leads me into the mists, away forever.

**...**

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! * Facepalm * It's been really busy around here; my parents just bought a business & have needed me to help a lot, hence the delay. Plus I had to make sure it was a chapter of fair quality, without any looming mistakes in the plotline that will come back to bite me later. **

**THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS:**

**Nerdy-Tomboy: * bites lip * We-ell, though I must agree on the 'too-cute-to-get-hurt' part I'm afraid it was a necessary part of the plotline... and for the 'chopping-up-etc.-whoever-did-it' portion, you may not want to do that yet...**

**DannyLover99: ;-) Indeed, he is. Did I ever tell you that I really like your pen name?**

**Hamster1000: Well, my genius sister, then WHY on earth did you need to interrupt me every five seconds while I was writing/editing/posting this? I know you're not too happy about the delay, but, come on, was it worth it?**

**TheOnyxDragon12: ****_[Chapter 1]_**** 1) Not quite. 2) Indeed, it does. 3) XD Small world or what? 4) Well, S.H.I.E.L.D. İs a government agency. Tyrant? As far as the reasoning, I can't spoil that quite yet. I assure you that Nick Fury is completely alive, though still missing an eye. ****_[Chapter 2] _***** hysterical laughter * Oh, yes, EXTRAORDINARILY valuable information... Yeah, bad choice of words there; in my defense: A) At the very moment, it was her biggest concern, sort of; B) I hadn't finished the plotline. Hence the gaping holes in my storyline.**

**leggo lover 99: Hold your horses! That actually may be coming up quite soon. ;-)**


	4. Should Have Been a Miracle

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the quotes or Ultimate Spider-Man. I do own my OC's and the idea.**

**A/N: This chapter won't make sense. It's not supposed to. The mystery of what actually ****_happened _****in between is what we will be (slowly) unwraveling throughout the story. I.E., what the heck is going on.**

**Chapter 4: Should Have Been a Miracle**

"_For all our sakes,_

_And all our lives,_

_We must hope the words_

_That come from your lips_

_We must hope those words are lies."_

_-Tracy Chapman, 'Lies'_

Breathing heavily, I stumble forward into Peter's arms, tears running down my cheek. A terrible pit has settled in my stomach, and my heart is eternally empty, a vast, gaping hole threatening to swallow me in its mighty darkness. They are all asking me what happened, why I am out of breath, but I barely know myself, and I cannot tell them what Time told me. Dark, charred words, burned by the flames of hatred and war, sink to the bottom of my heart like metal to the depths of tthe ocean, heavy and broken.

Broken in the same ways that I am. Now the mirror that reflects my life is cracked, splintering the pictures that my pencil used to be able to capture. Nothing can comfort my torn soul anymore. I am no child who can take comfort in lies any longer.

"Lies," I whisper, my voice raw with pain. "Beni kim yalan söylüyor? Bu sen misin? Yoksa? Veya Büyükanne Zaman?"

Peter kneels down, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Listen, Lilly, we can't understand you, but we can help you, if you'll let us."

The statement sounds utterly ridiculous. _I can't understand you, but I'll help you, just trust me. _So that I can be betrayed again?

Ali sits down beside Peter, her long legs tucked beneath her. Her bright blue eyes gleam in the dim, grey lighting, and her light, mousy brown hair is plastered to her face by the rain. "I understand you, Lilly. I can help. Lütfen." _Please_. The word sounds strange coming from her, and it is jumbled, as though it is being strangled by Ali's inexperienced tongue, but, nevertheless, it is _my _word. My language, from my home.

_Bring me home_. "Beni eve getirin."

"Oh, Lilly," she murmmurs, embracing me. Somehow, I feel stiff in her unfamiliar arms, but at least I have some relation with her. She knows where Paradise is, she can bring me there. _She will bring me home!_

**o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o. o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o. ..o.o. .o.o.o.o.o..oo.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o**

_Emma's POV_

Deep breathe in. Just try to think.

I can't, though. The silence drowns out my thoughts, any notions. I try to cling to hope, to memories, but I always knew this day would come. No matter how hard I try, I can't die. She is keeping me away from death's door, and I hate her for it.

These people are unafraid of me. They bask in my potential, and they don't know the half of it. I don't want to drag this out any longer than needed. A part of me wishes for the "good old days"-whether those be in K'un L'un raising Lilly or the few glorious years I had with the team. S.H.I.E.L.D.

Eff the government. Stupid, ignorant people. Thinking they could—thinking they had the right to destroy an entire group of people. People who may hurt, but do their best throughout their lives.

Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. is with the government. They're a government agency; they _are _the government. What did I expect? A miracle? Miracles...

Then, suddenly—darkness.

**...**

**...****_A considerable number of months later..._**

_Danny's POV_

Daniel Rand stared at the object in his hands. Emmaline's last sentiment. A small notebook, holding the secrets to the horrors that had befallen him. After reading it, he could only gape in disbelief. Danny knew he had to find Time, the woman responsible for all of this.

It was an odd notebook. Small, perhaps, but worth more than money could buy. The secrets inside only revealed themselves one at a time—each page appeared on the dawn of a fresh day. New entries had been unfolding themselves since the day that Emma left, since the day that Lilly died.

Nothing could comfort Danny anymore. The most recent page was messily written, barely legible.

_GRANDMOTHER TIME:_

_-chronokinesis_

_-thinks she's helping_

_-my mom is under somebody's control, & that somebody works for GT_

_-has access to AU's_

_-multiverse theory= correct_

_-needs L.R. To work_

The remainder of the page was blank, but those words held so much meaning; Danny knew what he had to do.

**A/N: My apologies. This chapter isn't very good, but is necessary. You'll understand soon, don't worry.**

**THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS:**

**Hamster1000: It's not Danny that you should have been worried about.**

**Nerdy-Tomboy: My fault. Oopsy. :-/ **


	5. New World

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the quotes or Ultimate Spider-Man. I do own my OC's & the idea.**

**Chapter 5: New World**

"_**And I've always lived like this**_

_**Keeping a comfortable distance**_

_**And up until now**_

_**I had sworn to myself that I'm content**_

_**With loneliness**_

_**Because none of it was ever worth the risk**_

_**But you are the only exception."**_

_**-Paramore, 'The Only Exception'**_

_Danny had always heard many people say to him that 'great things happen to extraordinary people', or quotes along the lines of each tragedy preparing you for something greater. This tragedy, however, had no such 'good' outcome. It was just pain, pure unbidden sorrow at losing everything for nothing. He had had everything that he could ever have needed, ever wanted. That was what really hurt. In a few fleeting hours, he had become a lonely man with a hollow heart—a living shell. All because of them, he now had nothing in exchange for everything, and there wasn't anything he could do. _

…**...**

I remember spending those first few months in a room. It was boring, but I used all of my spare time (in other words, whenever I wasn't sleeping) reading and writing, which entertained me somewhat. Sometimes I would try to stand up and practice my martial arts; those days always ended with me being tangled amongst wires and tubes. All of the machines that were connected to me, pulsing life through my frail body, made me feel trapped.

Whatever I tried to tell myself, I did know what had happened. I remembered Grandmother Time and my Other Life. I remembered the death, and her offer. _That can't have happened_, I said to myself. Not that I actually believed those words. The memories didn't fade, so I pretended to myself that they had been Dreams of another person, not me. That life couldn't have been mine.

Yet it was.

If any good came of this, I can say I learned that if you lie to yourself enough, the lies start to seem enough like the truth that your mind begins to believe them. Your heart, though, is solely emotion, and will bear the imprint of love, life and death no matter what you tell it.

Then, of course, I became skilled enough at this lying business that I could actually function like a person. Somewhat. Anyways, I joined the team. Two months later, I found myself kissing the fortune cookie. It was eerily similar to my Other Life that I had 'forgotten'. Exactly one month after the first kiss, Wade left.

I was happy when Wade left—ecstatic. He creeped me out more than my spooky dreams. I couldn't forget, either that he had tried to kill 'me' in those 'Dreams', and had succeeded in murdering many people close to 'me'.

Next big event? Peter joining the team.

Watching him fight, I could see the strength. His greatest power wasn't physical, though. It was something greater than that.

My friends didn't see eye to eye with me, but that was pretty normal. I liked being a wallflower; it suited me. Just listening to other people's opinions, absorbing their feelings like a human sponge. Some called me an empath, but I never considered myself to truly be such; it was just a side effect of my mutation.

"I finished this thing in under twenty," Danny said. At his voice, my stomach twisted itself into a knot, and I tried to catch his eye. He didn't seem to notice me, though, so I allowed myself to fade away, unheard and unseen as usual. I was Fury's prize possession, yet I was also his dreaded secret, the shameful recluse that he didn't want anybody to know about.

"I completed mine in under eighteen," Luke continued. I sighed quietly; even though I trained with the team like everyone else, my first "trial" hadn't gone so well. The entire room had simply lost power as I shut it down (unintentionally, of course). Though "three seconds" certainly beat anyone else who had ever tried, I had never felt like it was an achievement. If I was honest with myself, it was a disappointment, yet another failure of mine.

"There's no discipline to his fighting technique!" Ava exclaimed in horror. "He's just thrashing around hitting things!" She sighed. "But... Fury says he's good for the team..." I could tell from her tone that she disagreed.

Sam flew in. "_Why_ is Fury testing a new candidate?! I didn't approve of this!" I envied his confidence to say something like that.

"Look who thinks he's still in charge. That's so cute," Ava countered, putting a hand on her hip.

"If Fury thinks _I'm_ going to lead that lame-o in battle—"

Luke put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "In your dreams you're the team leader," he scoffed. Danny stepped up beside Luke, but I hung back uncertainly.

"He is rough around the edges, but not without potential," Danny said. My heart swelled. _You go Danny!_

Ava followed the boys. "Yeah, but he named himself '_Spider-Man'_," she said, making air quotes. "How sad is that?!"

"What was he supposed to call himself?" Luke admitted.

"Something cool that didn't scream, 'Hi, I have low self-esteem and identify with bugs'!"

"You know what they say about a book and its cover, dude."

"_Dude_, I'll clean this Helicarrier for a month if he makes it!" Ava said.

"Toilets too?" Danny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Toilets too!" They all gave each other high fives.

"You're on!"

"I'm in."

"Me too!"

"What about you, Em?" Ava demanded, turning to me. "Come on, you don't want to clean toilets, right?"

Underneath my mask, I rolled my eyes. "It wouldn't be fair." With a shrug, I walked away. Danny put a hand on my shoulder, keeping pace with me, before stopping next to the door. My heart leaped up at his touch on my bare skin, but I tried to look casual.

"You Dreamed?"

Slowly, I nodded. These sort of secrets were too hard to keep from Danny. He had found out months ago about my stupid Dreaming, which was a side effect of having a powerful mutation combined with a family curse.

Danny, though, didn't need any more information than that. "You have talked to the Professor?"

I shrugged. Lately, I had been avoiding Xavier—he and I had never gotten along, and the last thing I needed was more lectures. Danny hesitated for a split second, as if he wanted to say something else, but simply shook his head at me and walked away.

We were all supposed to be ready, since Nick said that the boy was 'unpredictable'. He had given us the S.H.I.E.L.D. file on him to read up on as homework. _Homework_. Like this was school or something, when it was so much more. I snorted to myself; I had always hated school, not because of the subjects, but, rather, the people. Being on the Helicarrier for such long periods of time was hard enough for me. Daily living drained me.

So I took a nap. Well, it should have been a nap; I ended up snoozing right through my alarm clock. What finally woke me up? Sam. He apparently didn't realize that I was still underneath the pile of blankets when he sat on my bed (and, hence, on me).

"Mph!"

"Oh, sorry." Sam blushed. Obviously, he hadn't planned on me being only in a baggy tee shirt and underwear. Hastily, I pulled the blankets back over me.

"Don't worry about it," I yawned, stretching. Then I saw the time—noon. "Flip! Why didn't anybody wake me up?!"

"Uh..." Sam trailed off uncertainly.

I blinked. "WHY are you in my room?! GET OUT!"

"Woa, talk about a—" the door slid shut in Sam's face before he could finish his sentence. He pounded on the door, and, sighing, I opened it again.

"What is it?"

"Fury says that somebody's on the phone for you—"

My eyes widened in shock, and I ran back to my room, dressing like lightning, then dashed to Nick's office. My hear fluttered in my chest, wondering what could be the matter. In the room, he was waiting, and wordlessly handed me the phone.

"Hello?" I whispered.

At the person's voice, I paled. Immediately, I could recognize who was on the other end, and my hands shook. The lights flickered, and I threw the phone to the floor, smashing it.

I started to leave, but Nick told me to sit down. Grudgingly, I took a seat across from him. _If Nick needs to talk to me now, then it must be bad,_ I thought. "What is it?"

"Bad news, kid. Worse than the call."

"Great," I muttered. Like I needed another problem to weigh me down.

"Test results came back negative. Formula B51 ain't gonna do the trick for you." Nick folded his hands, obviously waiting for an answer. When I didn't respond, he said with a sense of depressing finality, "Sorry kid. Life sucks like that sometimes."

I rolled my head back, staring at the ceiling. _I wish somebody would tell me that I'm not crazy, at the very least. _"Yeah. Trust me, I know. Not like I was expecting it to work or anything, right?" My voice broke. "Should I still come Saturday?"

Nick's gaze wavered, and I knew that he pitied me. I didn't want his pity, though. "Carlson, you can come if you want." _Just don't expect anything or get your hopes up_, his eyes said. _You know there isn't a cure, and there never will be. I'm just keeping you alive so that you don't blow up anything or kill anyone, because I don't want to deal with the paperwork. And if you ever gain control one day by some miracle because of your fortune cookie boyfriend, I'm claiming the credit and using you til you die. I claim you as mine, but remember: if you cause anything bad to happen, it's not my fault; if you save the world, it's my glory._

My shoulders sagged, and I blinked hard. "It's—it's fine," I said thickly, hurrying from the room. Danny was standing outside of the doorway, his green eyes sad.

"What is the matter, Emma?"

Always considerate. "Nothing." I managed a smile. That was what kept me going: my friends. They were the last string tying me to life. When each breath hurts to draw in, when each footstep is heavy, then you start to lose the will to live. The trouble was, I couldn't die. Every day, I was forced to go on living at the brink of death, unable to finally let go.

"You—" Danny was interrupted by both of our coms going off. With a sigh, I ran to my bedroom to change into my uniform, before hurrying to where Peter had messed up.

Sam scooped Peter from his motorcycle, while Ava jumped onto it and steered it over to the rest of us. Danny casually stopped it with his foot.

"I appreciate a little bit of help now and then, but I really didn't need to be saved by—who are you guys again?"

Danny pressed his fist into his palm. "Iron Fist. Namaste." He summoned his Chi, and punched the ground. "Iron Fist: Kung Fu master with fist of, well, iron."

Ava stepped forward, her hands on her hips. "White Tiger. Acrobatic ninja with steel claws and cat power. The big guy here is Luke Ca—"

"Power Man. If he calls himself Spider-Man, then I'm calling myself Power Man. It's cool and doesn't scream, _I have low self-esteem_." Proudly, Luke crossed his arms. "Super strength and bullet proof skin."

"Okay, _Power Man_," Ava snorted.

I rolled my eyes, then realized that it was 'my turn'. So to speak. "Um, Ergo." Somehow, I couldn't muster up the same confidence as my friends. And there was no way that I was introducing myself as _Hayat Ruh_. "Ergokinesis, and maybe quintekinesis. Manipulate energy, in other words."

"And I've already met Captain Bucket-Head," Peter jerked a hand at Sam as if he hadn't heard me at all.

"Able to carry two buckets of water in a single—name's Nova, creep!"

"Nova Creep. Catchy."

"Nova: the human rocket!"

"O-kay... Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get this bike back to HQ. You see, I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D." Peter apparently thought that this should have impressed us. I couldn't help but smile at the time.

"Small world," Luke grinned.

"Oh no," Peter growled.

Back at the Helicarrier, Peter started ranting about being on a team with us. I tuned out after three no's or so, focused on not fainting. The world was spinning, and I really wished that Luke had found another chair. Self-consciously, I wrung my hands, trying to make the world stand still.

Ava pumped her fist. "I win the bet! No toilets for the tiger!"

Peter walked over to the elevator, and I decided that I needed some medicine. Right now. Only Tuesday, and I was already feeling weak. Bad sign. I knew there was no way that I would be able to wait until tomorrow. Hopefully, Dr. Conners would let me do it early.

In the infirmary, Dr. Conners just looked at me. "So you mean the compound isn't working?"

I shook my head. "Am I supposed to feel—feel dizzy?"

"Not quite." He gave me another shot, and I was thankful for the cannula. "You need to take it easy," he said, shaking his head at me. "I'm trying my best, but I'm a scientist, not a doctor or miracle worker."

"So it's not going to work. That's what you're saying."

"Well, if you stopped—"

"No. I'm not letting her die. You know that."

Dr. Conners let out a deep breath. "Then you really need to take it easy. Plenty of sleep, skip training if you have to. Are you sure you don't want—"

"No. I'm _not _doing that until I have to." That would have practically be screaming, _I give up! _Besides, I wanted to keep quiet about this. Nobody needed to know. Not even my teammates. Or so I told myself at the time. Simply another lie that became apart of my daily existence. I wanted to be independent, and I was blatantly ignorant to the fact that I needed help from my friends.

"Fine. You can just spend the night here, since the injection should make you drowsy."

_Great, a drugged sleep_. Already, though, my thoughts felt sluggish, so I collapsed into the pillows.

…**...**

Blinking heavily, I pushed myself into a sitting position. My mouth tasted bitter and was slightly dry, but I felt a little better than last night. Standing up, my feet wobbled a bit, but I walked as casually as I could. Outside of the infirmary, Danny was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. "You are a bad liar."

"Just a little bug that's going around," I said, shrugging.

"Tell me the truth. What is wrong, Emma?"

I glanced at my rumpled uniform, which I realized that I must have slept in. "Nothing, Danny, 'K? I'm fine."

Suddenly, my knees gave way, and I collapsed to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. Danny helped me up, slinging one of my arms over his shoulder. His eyes were tinged with sadness. "Let me help," he said softly, touching my face. At his touch, I shivered, and all of the sudden, I realized how our hands fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Our faces were only inches from each other, when we both looked away, blushing. I tried to support myself, but fell back onto Danny. Carefully, he lead me to the meeting room, letting me fall into a chair. "Tell me, please. What is the matter?"

Ashamed, I stared at my feet. "I can't control it, Danny. I'm a freak, a monster."

"No, you're not," he whispered.

I gasped. "Yes, yes I am! Look at me!"

A half smile lingered on his lips. "Your Chi energy is different from any other persons that I have seen, the most immense energy field that I have ever encountered. It should have destroyed you instantaneously. Yet, look at you; you are alive. And something is amiss, more than your mutation, gifts, or curses. What have you seen, Emma?"

"I don't know," I murmured, drawing my knees to my chest. "I don't know who I am anymore."

I felt strong arms wrapping around me in a warm embrace, and I collapsed into Danny's chest. My shoulders shook with sobs, and I didn't know if I was crazy, or if I was even sane anymore.

"Let us find a better path for you, my friend. Let us find you a new start, here." Nodding, I took Danny's hand and followed him to my room. "It is time for school. Come."

Hastily, I dressed. As Danny waited outside, though, I opened the electrical panel. Taking a deep breath in, I touched it, letting the electricity flow into my body, rejuvenating me. Not the best way for energy, I knew, but I needed it if I had to face school again.

By lunchtime, I was exhausted. The classes weren't hard, but the people were. My locker was stubborn, and I hated having to memorize the combination. I had forgotten to bring money for lunch, or to pack a sandwich, so I just sat beside Ava in the corner of the lunchroom.

Sam wasn't there, for some reason, but Danny and Luke sat down across from us.

"This is repulsing," Ava said, making a face at her tray.

Luke shrugged. "Food's food, dude."

"The food you eat can either be the safest and most powerful form of medicine, or the slowest form of poison," Danny quoted airily, pushing his tray away.

"I'm voting for poison here." Ava shoved her tray at me.

"No thanks, I'm not eating _that_. You got meat, anyways—is that meat?" I peered at the chunks of gristle topping her mound of mashed potatoes.

"It's garbage," she proclaimed.

Luke's eyes widened, and he thickly exclaimed, "Don't frow dat 'way!"

"You can have it!"

I grinned at them. "I'm definitely packing a lunch tomorrow."

"If you like rotten strawberries topped with mayo, with a side of pickled herring."

"Who even _bought _the pickled herring?" I said, wrinkling my nose. "Well, anyways, who wants to go shopping with me?"

"Can't, I'm going to the gym," Luke shrugged again.

"Ugh, I have to work on this stupid project that I got partnered with _Sam _for! Of course, I'll have to do all the work as usual. Slacker." A low growl resided in Ava's throat.

"If we hurry and go right after school, we should be able to make it back in time for training," Danny smiled. His green eyes made me feel fluttery inside, and I hoped that I wasn't blushing.

"And _this _time, I'm buying tofu too. Let's never let Sam go shopping by himself again, agreed?"

With a slight shudder, all of them nodded in agreement to my statement. "I mean, what did he expect, us to survive on chocolate ice cream?" Ava rolled her eyes.

"Do not forget about the cashier," Danny added. I giggled at the memory.

"Yeah, that dude sure has a temper—I mean, just because the blondie told him that his credit card from S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't work doesn't mean he had to do _that_," Luke snorted.

The bell rang, ending our conversation. My watch started beeping, though, so I hurried to the detention room.

"But—principal Coulson—I've never had detention before in my life!" Peter looked dumbfounded. "My aunt's going to kill me!" He slammed his face against the wooden desk. "Then she's going to bring me back as a zombie and kill me again!" Peter was oblivious to Danny, Ava, Luke and I sitting in the row behind him. Sam knowingly watched Peter, a smug look plastered onto his face.

"Good job with the roleplay, you guys, that was perfect!"

Both of them turned around in their seats to see us watching them. "Ohhh," Peter said with relief. "This was just to get us together for some top secret S.H.I.E.L.D. thing. Whew. I thought it was serious."

There was a twinkle in Coulson's eye. "Define serious." He pressed a button on his desk.

"WOA!" I shouted as I slid off of my seat into a tunnel in the floor, landing in a sort of chair, which then rocketed forward. I felt a burst of energy surge through me. The chair slammed to a stop, and I happily jumped out, landing on my feet. Ava somersaulted from her chair, also landing on her feet.

"Ta da!"

"Move your webs," Sam grumbled from the heap of boys struggling to untangle themselves from each other.

"Boys," Ava snorted, giving me a high five. "So glad I'm not the only girl." I grinned back at her, and Ava walked over to a window, which revealed us to be underwater. "Where _are _we?"

"Attention." Nick's voice echoed from the speakers above. "All S.H.I.E.L.D. personal prepare to surface."

My stomach plummeted downward as the Helicarrier surged up into the sky, as if we were riding an enormous elevator.

"The Helicarrier!" Ava cried. "I love this job!"

"In a feisty mood?" Nick's voice wandered over from a screen on the other side of the room, and I turned around to see Sam flying, energy pulsing through his hands. "Outstanding. The Court is precisely where you'll train to focus that aggression."

"The Court?" Peter asked. "Like, bean-ball court?"

"Court. Like you come here to be judged. Partially." The windows slammed shut, and drones surfaced from the floor.

"Should of called it the bathroom. I just webbed my shorts."

I rolled my eyes at Peter's dumb joke. "Just cross the room without setting off any traps," Nick continued, ignoring Sam's and Peter's angry expressions. "And Emma, don't shut down the power, that doesn't count."

"Aw," I grinned. Luke punched me in the arm. "Ouch, that hurt!"

All of the sudden, Sam and Peter took off, destroying the drones. The rest of us just stood there, watching, surprised at their sheer stupidity and lack of listening skills. Ava sighed. "Ugh. They are so stupid."

"You can say that again," I remarked, raising my eyebrows at the series of explosions.

"HA! IN YOUR FACE!" they shouted in unison, fists clenched.

"Gentlemen!" Nick interrupted. "The object of this exercise was to cross the room _without _setting off any traps."

"He said that?! When did he say that?!" Peter looked shocked. "Oh... my oops?"

"I _was_ going to send you into the field today. But until you start working together, you're grounded."

My heart plummeted. _Great. I'm stuck inside of the Helicarrier now. _

"But that's not fair!" Ava hissed. "It was Dork One and Dork Two!"

"You're going to clean up your mess. As a team."

A little robot with brooms and mops wheeled up to us. "I got the ceiling!" Peter yelled.

_Idiots._ I grabbed a broom and glumly started sweeping up the debris. Fifteen minutes later, all of the wreckage was pushed into a large pile in the center of the room.

"Be the best hero you can be. Work with professionals," Ava muttered venomously. "I'm pushing a broom thanks to you two!"

"A tornado becomes a gentle breeze only as temperatures cool down." Danny clasped his hands together.

"You said it!" I exclaimed, only to realize that nobody else understood what he meant.

"He does that," Luke said, throwing a chunk of metal onto the pile. "Let's just finish so we can prove what we got to Fury."

Sam blasted the pile of junk, melting it away. Peter jumped down from the ceiling. "You guys are the nubes. I've been catching badies for over a year! Check it out: Batrok, Melter, Toad, the Frightful Four—and I'm counting all four!"

"That's it!" Ava shouted. "Spider-Man, you're a gen—you gave me an idea." She sat down at the computer and began scrolling down a list of bad guys. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Most Wanted. We bring in someone from here—"

"Instant respect," Luke finished for her.

"Right. Let's make sure it's someone we can handle..." Ava's voice faded away as I walked from the room, feeling suddenly sick to my stomach. I had remembered what I should have been doing, and, hurrying to my room, I knew all to well the consequences of my lateness.

A few hours later, the deed was done. I had finished. Collapsing onto my bed, I smiled to myself; I could relax. Everything was safe—

Suddenly, the alarms began going off. I tried to sit up, but found myself unable to, and the world went dark.

The next day, it didn't take me long to find out about their adventure, and part of me felt ashamed for not having been there with them. Another part of me, though—the sensible part—knew that it was for the best that I had not stayed. I would not have left Dr. Doom's doorstep once I had arrived, and the day would have played out far differently. I would have missed my meeting, and no one would have been safe from Time or my mother.

Time. The name brought feelings of bitterness, another forgotten lie. What would she have done if I hadn't finished the job for her? _What choice do I have? She can kill us all, with Bereave as her ally. _Bereave, the bearer of death's kiss. Those who dared to ridicule her jokingly called her Mrs. Reaper.

Sending me to do their dirty work. As if I couldn't kill them all before they had lain a finger on any of my friends. They knew I wouldn't, though, that the real reason that I obeyed was because of Vincent. Vincent. None of my teammates knew of his existence, but, being me, I had always known.

It was a school day, though, so I didn't have long to dwell on such thoughts. After shoving down a bowl of oatmeal and slipping on some clothes, it was school again. I decided to walk, feeling the need for fresh air. I regretted not waking up earlier and hanging around the park. Then I remembered the way S.H.I.E.L.D. was always breathing down my neck, and realized that I wouldn't have been alone anyway. At least security cameras didn't seem to work when I was around—then again, most things that ran on electricity didn't work very well when I was nearby.

Halfway there, Danny, Ava, and Luke had caught up with me. I was glad for the company, but nervous. Being around people, especially my friends, did that to me.

"Sam's going to be late again," Ava huffed. "He wouldn't get his butt out of bed!"

"Hey, that's his own fault," Luke shrugged.

"What's who's fault?" came a sing-song voice from behind us. Sam lazily hovered in midair, dressed up in his uniform. Ava's eyes narrowed, and she smacked him on the back of his helmet.

"Bucket head! Change _now_!" she hissed.

"Fine, fine!" Sam ducked into the nearest coffee shop, emerging a minute later dressed in street clothes.

"Your shirt's inside out," I said quietly. He didn't hear me, because my voice was so soft, but I noticed Danny grinning while glancing at the back of Sam's shirt.

"We've got to hurry, there's a test first period!" Ava began walking faster. I stayed in the back of our little group, trying to stay awake. Sam suddenly halted in his tracks, digging his vibrating phone out of his back pocket.

"What the—oh, you guys won't believe this!" Sam said, breaking out in hysterical laughter. "Later!"

Ava raised an eyebrow at Sam's retreating figure. "What was _that _about?"

"I'm sure we'll find out soon," I mumble.

"Ditto to that."

As it turned out, Ava was right. There was a test first period. Which I had not studied for. I was slightly beyond caring after last night, but I tried my best. At least we weren't late; we were ten minutes early.

Before lunch, though, my communicator began beeping. It was a message from Nick. As I was about to open it, Ava grabbed my hand and lead me away. "We've _got_ to talk to Parker."

"Okay."

Flanked by Danny, Sam, and Luke, we approached Peter. I had the distinct feeling that we were interrupting something important between him and the boy he was with, but judging from the look on my teammates' faces, this was more important.

"Excuse us," Ava said, her hand on her hip. "But can we borrow Petey for a teensy sec?"

"Can't it wait? Harry and I—"

"Parker. Talk. _Now_." Sam pushed Peter towards the hallway.

"Woa. What's the deal?" His friend frowned at us.

"Uh... it's a club thing. A club I just joined. Today. Sandwich club." Peter looked apologetic, and I felt bad for his dumbfounded friend.

"_Sandwich_?" Sam snapped.

"Later, Harry." Peter gave a limp, tired wave. _Harry. So that's his name_.

At the lunch table, Sam produced his phone, with an image of Spider-Man on it. Apparently Peter had torn the bottom of his costume while fighting that morning. I laughed with the others, but more out of surprise than amusement; it was the hollow, meaningless laughter of a dead soul.

"Okay, _that_ I didn't need to see," Ava said, sliding into the chair beside Peter. "Why'd we find out about this from Fury and not you?"

Peter swallowed his bite of mush. "Um, because I just got here. You guys aren't my mommies and daddies."

Danny stepped forward, placing a friendly hand on Peter's shoulder. Coupled with his green eyes, he looked completely sincere, and I couldn't help but smile a bit even though his words were rather foreboding. "Stand together or fall alone, Pete. That's why we wanted to talk."

Shoving Danny's hand away, Peter snapped, "You wanted to talk?! Let's _talk _about how you made me blow off my best friend! My time is my time—that was the deal I made with Fury."

_Like Fury keeps promises, _I reflected bitterly.

"We also made a deal to work together," Luke pointed out. "Remember?"

"Yeah, you got a job now, Parker. No need to kiss up to moneybags anymore for cash," Sam said, rolling his eyes. Unfortunately, Harry was walking up to us as he said that. _Talk about bad timing._

Harry slammed his tray on the lunch table and stormed away. Casting an angry glare at us, Peter followed his friend.

"There are many parts between the mind and the mouth. You should try using them sometime," Danny said softly to Sam.

"I second that—oh, be right back," I mutter quickly, half running to the bathroom. After emptying the contents of my stomach in the toilet, I queasily stared at myself in the mirror. I looked tired, with black bags forming beneath my brown eyes. My braid was messy, and my hair unwashed. It all added up to a desolate picture.

Splashing cold water on my face, I hoped that none of my friends would notice my sudden disappearance. They usually didn't. Nausea was a normal side effect of this particular formula—or so Dr. Conners had informed me—and the current situation wasn't likely _helping_ my state. Not even Danny, who was, as my boyfriend, the closest to me of any of my teammates, knew about my condition. I was good at lying to myself, and keeping secrets was really just lying to other people.

_The first day that I met the other members of the team was the day after I found out about Abby. My eyes were red, and my tear stained face looked anything but ready for a new start. Somehow, I managed to dress myself, though. I wore a pair of jeans and a writer's blouse, the first things I saw laying in my suitcase. My hair, pulled back in a messy braid, hung around my face, limp with sweat from the previous night's nightmares. _

_What they must have thought when they saw me? I don't know, to be honest. I do know that I didn't care much at the time. They had already known the others for three days, but none of them seemed well acquainted except for the Zen boy and the African-American boy. _

_I had already been living in the Helicarrier for nearly six months at that point. Not that I had any more control than before. I simply managed to live, and at the time, that was a miracle. However, I had not met many of these people before in person, so I should have been nervous. I was far too numb to be nervous._

_Wearily, I stepped into the meeting room for the first time to face my new family. Family. The word had a deadened, hollow ring to it, one of bitterness and betrayal. Then I looked at the people. I already knew their names from Nick, but seeing them in person was an entirely different experience._

_Ava Ayala. The only other girl on the team. Her sharp brown eyes surveyed me, and I could tell that she knew something was wrong. She had thick brown hair that reached her shoulders, and donned a simple green tunic. I knew her story already. The White Tiger amulet had quite a legacy._

_Luke Cage. My eyes skimmed right over him, because we had already encountered each other yesterday, with the other relatives of those who were injured in the accident. _

_Sam Alexander. Nova. He bore a smug expression even then. A sufferer. I knew his story, but not from Nick. It was a sad one, yet his eyes did not betray his past. In fact, he radiated confidence, a simple facade._

_Wade Wilson. From the moment that I saw him, the only one of us wearing a superhero costume, I hated everything about him, from his two katanas to the black and red mask. I had Dreamed about him before. Murderer. I didn't know if he was a killer then, but I knew that he would become one eventually, because my Dreams always come true. Besides, his name was _Deadpool_. _

_Daniel Rand. Rand. He was rich, and I knew it from the moment Nick first uttered his name. Yet this boy before me was the precise opposite of what I had expected. He had beautiful green eyes that twinkled with knowledge, and a laid-back expression. His mouth turned upwards at the corners into a soft half smile, and he had messy blond hair that reached halfway down his neck. The immortal Iron Fist. _

"_So, who's the guppy?" called the hated Wade._

_I mumbled, "Emma."_

"_Well, you're about to get—"_

"_Yeah, dude, we know," Luke rolled his eyes. "Pooled. We get it. Seriously, you don't need to tell everybody the same thing a million times."_

_I stared at the metal floor, uncertain of where should sit. Ava and Luke made no move to accept me as one of their own, and there was no way that I was going to sit by Wade. Sam flashed me a toothy white smile. Danny, though, nodded his head at me, and patted the seat to hit right. Gratefully, I sat next to him, thankful that I didn't have to sit by flirty Sam, murderer Wade, intimidating Luke, or spiteful Ava. Instead, I was beside the Zen boy._

_Supposedly, we were to begin training. The Court wasn't quite ready yet, though, so we were to 'get to know each other'. "Without killing anybody," Nick had reprimanded me, and I'm sure he did the same to a few of the others._

_The table, I found, was very intriguing. I studied the enormous slab of metal with intense interest. "Well, so what's a cutie like you doing here?" Wade yawned casually._

_A blush crept onto my cheeks, but I didn't answer. "What can you even do?" Ava demanded, rolling her eyes. "I mean, I'm not complaining—thank God I'm not the only girl here, at least there'll be one other sane person—but all Fury said was not to bug you. Which, I'm sorry, isn't much to go on."_

"_I never claimed to be sane." The words tumbled from my tongue before I could think better of them, and I breathed a sigh of relief that my remark had shocked them into silence again for a few moments. _

_The moments stretched into minutes, and the quiet became increasingly awkward, until Wade broke into a fit of laughter. Pushing his chair over to mine, he pounded me on the back. "I like you! You're funny!"_

"_Was that a joke?" Danny said evenly. "Do not make assumptions unless you know the whole story. To assume is to limit the mind to one way of viewing, when by nature our perceptions should be infinite."_

_The others stared at him, bewildered, but I found myself smiling. "Well, what if everybody's perceptions are infinite, and some people's perception is just a bigger infinity than others? Some infinities are bigger than others." Their stares turned to me, my soft voice echoing throughout the small room. I couldn't believe I said that, but Danny grinned right back at me._

_Sam stood up, shook his head, then threw out his arms. "Enough with the fortune cookie junk! We've heard it all, Fist!"_

_Ava growled. "How about you learn to shut up, Bucket Head?!"_

_At that precise moment, Nick appeared. "Enough. You're dismissed. Not you, Wilson. The rest of you—go." I popped up from my seat, feeling energized by my brief exchange, when Nick added, "Carlson, it's Monday." Stupid reminders._

The warning bell rang, interrupting my trip down memory lane. Danny was waiting for me at my locker, and even I could see the concern in his eyes. "Where were you?"

I shrugged, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. "Just a little bit of a cold."

"It is not the cold season," he pointed out with a frown. Danny wasn't stupid; he knew what game I was playing—after all, he did it himself nearly every day.

"So?"

"Truth is one, paths are many."

"Mahatma Gandhi?"

"Why answer a question that we both know the answer to?"

"Why answer a question with a question? Because sometimes the questions are the answers." I twisted the knob on my locker, trying to get it to open without success.

"The truth is the answer which I seek." Danny crossed his arms with a sense of finality.

"This isn't the time or place. You know that." My locker door popped open. I sighed with relief, gathering my books.

"Tonight, dinner?"

I couldn't stop the smile. Leaning my head against his chest, I rolled his necklace between my fingers and breathed, "Meet you in Central Park." Danny lifted my chin up, and our lips brushed.

"See you then."

"Can't wait," I whispered honestly, turning away so he couldn't see the tears lingering in my eyes.

…**...**

_Lilly's POV_

_The day that Grandmother Time sat down across from me to talk over a cup of tea was the day that my life changed forever. Even if it was only a little while ago, it feels like a different life. An entirely different reality. _

_She had brought me to a mansion of sorts in Paris, France. I thought it was nice, but still not paradise, still not home. Besides, the sweetest things in life would always taste bitter without love. The vintage table was painted white, and the matching chairs had an intricate flowery design running over them. _

_Time spoke in my native tongue, and said, "Child, I still do not believe that you understand. I am Grandmother Time, as you know, but I have more reason than your bloodline to bring you here, to my house."_

"_Oh," I responded uncertainly._

"_You see, I control Time, as you know. Are you familiar with the __çoklu Evreni Theory?" I didn't know what those words even meant at the time, and seeing my confused expression, she continued, "I suppose not. It is known in the English tongue of Americans as the Multiverse Theory._

"_To the most basic point, it states that every time a choice is made, there becomes a new reality for each choice. For example, if I were to stand in the center of New York City, and there were three options—turn right, go straight, or stay where I am at that particular moment—then there would become three 'universes'; one in which I go straight, another in which I turn right, and a third in which I stay where I am._

"_In such a theory, every little decision—including those at the molecular level—would result in a new reality, resulting in an infinite number of universes of infinite size." She paused to sip her tea at this point, and I tried to grasp this little bit of information._

"_So... what are you trying to say?"_

_Time smiled at me, with pity and sadness mingled in her eyes. "This is no longer a theory, my dear. I know it to be reality." She slid a piece of paper and a pen across the parchment. "Draw a flower, please."_

_For a moment, I simply stared, before the urge to obey this woman overcame me, and I obediently drew a vertical line topped with a circle. Then I bordered the circle with ovals. _

"_Dear, we both know you have a certain talent for capturing the life of a being. As your father says, you make the picture breath."_

_She knows, I thought. I closed my eyes, trying to find the story for this flower. It came easily, and my pencil slid across the paper, adding all sorts of details. I must have spent nearly an hour on the flower, yet it seemed to be only a few moments before the Anenome peeled itself from the paper._

_Her six petals were a pale lilac, and drooped slightly. The center of the flower was a yellow sphere, with white stamens sprouting from it like hands waving in the wind. Her roots were tangled, searching for soil to bury themselves within. Time gazed at the Anenome with an expression of assurance and peace, as though her thoughts had been confirmed._

"_You see, you have created something from nothing. Which is not possible, scientifically speaking. Yet you use no magic to do this. You draw on something else. You have a connection with the other worlds, the other realities, Lilly. You are the bridge between. Before now, I was one of the few who had any knowledge or means of traveling in between these universes. Now you can help me."_


	6. Living on a Prayer

**Chapter 6: Living on a Prayer**

"_**Truth is not what is seems,**_

_**but what it is."**_

_**-Frank Sonnenberg**_

Danny stared at the words of truth. The truth stung, and he didn't want to believe it. There weren't any other options, though.

_Time is doing this because she wants to fix these freaks like myself. She wants __one__reality that is "happily ever after" for everyone. _

That was what he got for reading Emmaline's diary.

**...**

As it turned out, Danny and I didn't meet in Central Park, nor did we go out to dinner that night. We didn't even go grocery shopping (something that really needed to be done before we starved). Instead, we ended up at Harry Osborn's penthouse.

Peter had invited us. Saying 'no' wasn't an option. Supposedly, it was so that his friends and his teammates could learn to get along better. Just a movie night, right? Not quite.

Nobody was particularly enthusiastic, me least of all. The building was enormous and fancy. Its sheer size was frightening enough, and when you added the new people, it was a very bad place for me to be. The precise kind of situation that I was supposed to be avoiding, doctor's orders.

Even my friends were dubious. Danny's fists were clenched, and the reasoning was obvious; although _he _might be fine about the whole Rand Industries thing, Harry might not be so cool about it. The Osborns were notorious for their snootiness, and Mr. Osborn was extremely competitive. Why should his son be any different? I couldn't believe that Peter hadn't thought of it—then it occurred to me that perhaps he might not have put two and two together yet. It would dawn on him eventually.

"Think of it as a _team bonding _exercise," Peter said. "Just without the costumes and fighting and stuff."

I bit my lip. The 'costumes and fighting and stuff' sounded a lot better than _this _at that moment.

"I don't _need _a new friend," Sam muttered, crossing his arms.

"Maybe not. But if you guys are going to invade my life, it's going to be on my terms. It's going to be cool, it's going to be fun." Peter smiled, when, suddenly, the door opened. "_Flash_?!"

"Par-ty!"

The room was filled with people. High school kids. I wrung my hands, backing away, but Danny set a hand on my shoulder. I tried to relax a little bit, but simply worked myself up more.

"Didn't see _that_ coming."

Sam grinned smugly at Peter. Ava looked utterly annoyed. She was probably thinking about how she could have been studying for the math test that Friday. I was thinking of how badly I wished that I was in Central Park with Danny right then, on the way to a nice restaurant. Almost _anything _would be better than this.

"I'm missing homework for this?" Ava hissed.

"This wasn't supposed to be... this," Peter said, his blue eyes wide with surprise. "MJ!"

A redheaded girl who looked about as comfortable as me made her way over to us. "Hey guys. Some party, huh?"

"I thought we were watching a movie!"

"Me too. But apparently we're watching half the school party down at Harry's house instead."

"The whole school, actually," Harry said with satisfaction. "Except for the ones who weren't invited." He jerked a thumb over at us. I blushed miserably. Luke, Ava, Danny and I had been watching Sam eat tortilla chips in an extremely disgusting manner.

"What? Dey're good nafos!" Sam exclaimed around a mouthful of food. I redirected my gaze to Peter and Harry.

"I invited them, Harry," Peter said innocently. "I thought maybe if everyone got to know each other, things would be cool. Harry, I'm _trying _here. Come on!"

"I don't need any more friends. As you can see, I've got plenty." His words were venomous and angry, and I shuddered, turning to read the titles of the nearby books. I ignored what was happening around me as best as I could, struggling to tune out all of the people's voices.

Danny tapped me on the shoulder, and I followed him, Sam, Luke, and Ava over to MJ. "Nervous bladder," she shrugged. "Ever since first grade." Ava just looked at her with complete boredom.

I hung back, behind Sam. Sam was a good couple of inches shorter than me, though, so my attempts to blend in were futile. A second later, icy cold fear consumed me. Bad energy nearby. I backed away, bumping into Luke, who gave me a concerned look. The energy was completely black, and it consumed other lighter energies. Sam shrugged, shoving a slice of pizza down his throat, when a terrifying roar echoed through the room. "Woa! Tell me he rented a lion!" At everyone's blank stares, Sam explained, "What? Rich people rent lions."

"Not a lion," I groaned to myself. Luke's eyes widened, and he glanced from me to the stairs, then poked Danny in the side. More sounds of wood splintering echoed down the staircase, and Peter tumbled down from the bathroom. A boy—Thomas—caught him.

An enormous, writhing black mass of goo followed, shaping itself into a sort of monster. It tipped its head back and howled, letting its tentacles squirm up and puncture the lights. The room was plunged into darkness, and I took another step back, bumping into the table. The entire throng of people screamed, hurrying from the room.

I held back, until Luke tugged on my arm, and I followed him out of the door, helping to herd the people away from whatever the dark mass was. Once all of the kids were out of the way, I slipped out of my shirt and jeans, pulling my boots, gloves, and mask on. When I ran into the darkened room, though, it was empty, so we hurried to the rooftop instead.

"How do we stop that thing without hurting Nova?" Ava snapped. "Ideas?"

"My irresistible comedic banter seems to have no effect. That's all I got."

"I can take it," Luke growled.

"Let's not be hasty. You'd better make a promise to clean your room or something first."

Luke grunted irritably.

"Kidding! Don't touch it or it'll stick to you!"

"Not if you touch it hard enough," Luke said, yanking the goo from Nova's body. It squirmed, then consumed him.

"Power Man! No!" Ava cried, getting ready to pounce.

"This is bad," Peter said.

The monster pounced, and we all moved out of the way. It shot out one of the tentacles at me, and I punched it. It pulled away, steaming, and I stared at my hand, which was slowly turning gray. Danny let out a loud kiyup, then punched it, only to be batted away like a fly. Ava tried to jump on it, but a tentacle grabbed her, slamming her to the ground.

My ears rung, and I clawed at my hand, oblivious to the fighting going on around me. At last, the thin layer of gray skin began to smoke, evaporating into the air, and I caught my breath.

"All life is sacred, creature, but what you're doing is wrong." Danny's voice resounded amongst the silence, echoing with power. "Let him go before I forget I'm a pacifist." He ran an the creature, drawing his glowing fist back, and punched the goo right off of Luke. Danny jumped from obstacle to obstacle, dodging the mass. All at once, it caught him by the ankle, and with a thud, Danny fell to the ground.

"I can hear its thoughts... they're—they're confused...Spider-Man... it wants... you?" The mass roared with delight, and the world spun. I fell to my knees, trying to clear my head. Something was wrong. It was if the creature were apart of _me_, as though it had control of me instead of Danny...

The world was dark and heavy. My fist was aglow, and I watched helplessly as I pounded Spider-Man... I wanted Spider-Man... Only Spider-Man... No! GET OUT!

Then I was me again, breathless, watching the mass dissipate, letting Danny go, then swallow Peter instead.

"I AM VENOM!"

At that point, the world was fuzzy again. _Clear my mind. Concentrate, separate It from Peter... That's it, take the energy away, it's mine! Slowly..._ It wasn't possible, though. The process was too slow, I though desolately. It wouldn't work.

Gasping for air, I stood. The world was spinning, and I knew that I had failed. Most likely made it worse. The team, though, had prevailed, victorious. They stood, proudly, beside me, as Harry and MJ ran up to us.

Nova, Sam, and Danny had each faced the horrors of that thing. Ava had helped defeat it. I had only hindered them, I thought miserably, staring at the ground. "You seen my friend Peter?"

"Shrimpy kid?" Luke scoffed.

"Spaghetti arms?"

"Three dollar haircut?"

"Only a ninety-eight average?" We all stared at Ava. "What? That's not a jokey insult?"

Peter stepped forward. "Don't worry. He's fine."

"Good," Harry let out a breath of relief. "He's my best friend."

Police barged through the door to the rooftop, and I tried to look like I belonged, however I might have felt internally. I supposed that Danny likely felt more awkward than I did, being only in his underwear and a ninja mask. My eyes wandered to him, and a deeper shade of red settled on my cheeks.

"You destroyed it?!" Mr. Osborn snapped. At our looks, his face turned to one of relief. "Thank goodness. Get the heroes some help." He jerked a thumb at us the same way Harry had done earlier that night.

I pushed the officers away, taking the stairs to the street below. I didn't stop to change, simply walking to the street below and boarding the waiting car.

"You took too long," Kris hissed at me from the driver's seat. "You have to hurry, now, and get the job done."

True to my word, I did hurry. Once the job was finished, I wiped the blood off of my hands and dashed back to the Helicarrier, hoping that nobody would have noticed my absence.

Of course, Danny and Luke were waiting for me. They were leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, both in civilian clothes. Danny held my jeans and shirt out to me, his face expressionless. "You forgot these."

"Oh, uh, sorry. I just... took a walk through the park. Since... we, um, missed out on the... plans."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Right. I'm going to leave you two to your argument, then." He strolled away, and I was glad that Luke wasn't the type of person to hang around behind doors and eavesdrop.

"Where were you?"

"What does it matter?" I shot back defensively.

"You were not in the park. Look at yourself. There is blood on your sleeve. Why?"

"I cut myself at Harry's," I said, not meeting his eyes.

"A painful truth is better than a sweet lie."

"Everyone has secrets."

"Wise is he who can keep a secret, but wiser is he who has no secrets," Danny quoted.

"Fury's listening," I lied.

"Now cameras work around you?"

I sighed. Danny had me cornered. "No, they don't. Never did, still don't. Look, it's just a family matter that I'm stressing out about, okay? School's hard right now, and then Peter's brought all this new stuff in at once... I seriously needed to get away tonight, just you and me, but that didn't happen, so I went on a walk. A short walk. Came across a bad guy, fought him. He just gave me a little scratch. That's all." That was the closest to the truth that I was willing to tell.

Danny pulled me against him. "Are you going to school tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "Have to."

"I am not. I have work business to attend to." His voice dropped to a whisper. "How about we get out, just the two of us, when I am finished?" I fingered his necklace, embracing the moment. I loved being so close to him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and his lips brushing over my ear.

There was no need for an answer as our lips met, and it was a whole new world, a glorious place that held eternity in just a few moments. When we broke away, Danny pulled my face to his chest, holding me there. I buried myself in his shirt while he played with my hair, listening to the silence.

…**...**

I woke early the next morning, taking a long shower. I dressed in nice, but casual clothing: a simple short-sleeved silver shirt with a scoop neck that had feathers scattered across the fabric and skinny jeans. For me, that was about as fancy as it got. I braided my hair as always, and slipped on my glasses. It was early when I finished dressing—six AM—but Danny was waiting for me in the meeting room. I grinned at the sight of him in a business suit, and he playfully smiled back.

"You actually listened to Jane this time?"

Danny nodded. "It is not as if I have much of a choice. She will just make me change there if I wear regular clothing."

"True enough."

"Breakfast?"

I leaned my head on his shoulder. "Sure."

It was drizzling slightly, but it was actually fun to walk together in the rain, talking and laughing. We stopped at a bakery for cinnamon rolls—Danny's favorite—and bought enough to share with a few employees. I took off my flats and ran barefoot, my feet slapping against the cold pavement. Danny just laughed at me. It was one of those moments, that beautiful time when it is just you and the one special person.

Inside of the huge building, I felt at home. It was ironic that I hated large buildings that housed numerous people, but felt at home in this monstrous skyscraper. We were dripping wet, and the receptionist shook her head at us in disapproval, but neither of us cared. Danny's green eyes were glowing; I had never noticed how cute he looked when his blonde hair was wet, and his mischievous half smile said everything for him.

We took the elevator to his office. "Sit here, and wait. It has been a considerable amount of time since I last attended a meeting, so it will probably take a little while. I am sorry."

I looked in his eyes and completely lost any common sense that I had retained. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and closed my eyes. His hands wandered to my waist, pulling me in closer, until our nose were gently touching—then we just kissed like never before. I ended up on the sofa beneath him, breathing hard, and shivering at his touch.

A cough from the doorway interrupted us. Looking back, it was probably a good thing that Jane came to fetch Danny before we got any further. I gave a limp, embarrassed wave as he followed her out.

For awhile, I stared out of the gigantic window that stretched across an entire wall. Then I took a book that was sitting on his desk—_"Tao Te Ching" _by Lao Tzu—and read it for the remainder of the time. Around noon, my communicator began beeping, so I answered it. An extraordinarily irritated Ava appeared on the screen.

"WHERE the HELL are you?!"

"Uh..."

"You seriously skipped?" Ava hissed. A grinning Sam appeared behind her.

"Hey, awesome! Next time you skip, though, tell me, because, dude, I would have _so _gone with you!"

"Shut up, bucket head!"

"Guys—"

Ava's eyes narrowed. "Oh, and you wouldn't have _any _idea where a certain Zen boy is, would you?"

I let out a long sigh. "Look, Ava, he's _working_, okay?"

"What are you doing?" she snarled. "Keeping him company? Did I disrupt your kissing?"

Anger leaped up inside of me. "I'm reading a book!"

"So you're telling me that it's not a date? That you _haven't _been making out?" Ava scoffed.

"It's complicated, okay?! Who cares if we've been making out—what difference does it make to you?" I hung up, feeling irritated. Within the hour, though, the argument was behind me, and I was immersed in the book again.

At exactly two fourteen, Danny escaped the meeting, and (after he changed) we took off down the street, laughing. Neither of us were outgoing people, and it felt great to be able to talk like a normal person. No worries, no fighting, only us.

It wasn't raining anymore, though clouds still lingered. By then we were both extremely hungry, so we walked to the nearest grocery store and bought an abundance of fruits, breads, and vegetables to eat in Central Park as a sort of picnic. It was delicious, needless to say.

I stretched out on the grass next to Danny, watching the clouds shift. "How much longer do you have?"

"Around halfway done—sixth months or so." There was a long silence, then he softly said, "You are coming?"

Taken aback by his sudden offer, I paused. "Only if you want me."

His hand fumbled for mine, and our fingers intertwined. "Of course I want you."

"Then, of course I'm coming."

There was another long period of quiet, until Danny stood. I followed him through the park, to a lonely bench on the side of a busy, dirty street. I sat next to him, watching the cars pass us by.

"What are you not telling me?"

I wrung my hands, a dead giveaway that something was wrong. "Plenty. Same as you. Everyone's got secrets. Even you and me."

"You can tell me."

"No, I can't." I watch a bright orange van zoom by. "It's not like that, Danny. It's about my parents, and same as you, I don't talk about them, okay? They're the past, and it's easier to just let stuff like that be."

Danny didn't say anything; he simply nodded and draped his arm over my shoulders. I leaned my head against him, and we watched the world around us, living, breathing, loving.

His communicator interrupted us with its continuous buzzing, so Danny answered it. Nick's face loomed over us, dark with anger. "What the hell are you thinking?!"

"We—"

"You _weren't _thinking, that's what!"

"Director Fury, I had business—"

"What about S.H.I.E.L.D. business?!" Nick snapped.

"NICK! Listen to us, okay?" I screamed at the watch.

"No. _You _are the ones who need to listen to me! Carlson, you _knew _that you weren't supposed to leave the Helicarrier, and Rand—you know better than this. Both of you, get your sorry asses back to HQ. Fury out."

"Wait, Nick!" I called desperately, to no avail. It was too late. "Crud." The last thing that I wanted to do at that moment was return to the Helicarrier and be ridiculed by Nick. Danny shook his head, standing up, and led me to the middle of the park. He guided me throughout the movements in my most recent form, gently readjusting me whenever he felt it necessary. I shivered at his soft touch, smiling to myself.

It began to drizzle slightly, and the crowd ebbed away, leaving only us two. My hair was plastered o my face, and I was laughing at Danny again. I couldn't see his expression, but he hugged me against his chest, rocking back and forth.

Afterward, we went and saw a movie. Around ten at night, we returned to the Helicarrier, exhausted. On the way up, part of me wanted to feel sorry for myself, about the trouble I was in, but nothing could take away this happiness that Danny had brought upon me. Just outside of the main entryway, I shook my head, and climbed onto the top of the aircraft. He followed me, and for a moment, we stood there, staring at the array of stars. Then my hand held his, and I led him to the entrance.

For a fleeting second, I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in. During that brief period of time, his body pressed to mine, and when I opened my eyes again, they met his beautiful green irises. Danny fingered my hair, twirling it, and I let my nose bump his. His head turned, and he leaned in to kiss me. I met his lips full on, and it was the best feeling in the world—

"Since when did _you two _become a _couple_?!" Peter's voice intruded in, smashing my little dream like broken glass. Awkwardly, we tried to untangle ourselves without success. My cheeks were afire, and Danny's eyes had the deer-caught-in-headlights look to them.

"Since when did you care?" I mumbled bluntly.

"You guys are that serious—as in, you kiss?"

"Now kissing is illegal?" I snapped, the words sharp in the previously peaceful night.

"Emma," Danny said calmly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I relaxed, letting myself fall into him again.

"Where were you guys when Batrox was stealing half a million dollars?" Peter looked exasperated. "Making pancakes?"

I stared at him. "Pancakes? Why would I go somewhere else to cook pancakes?"

"Oh, never mind! Seriously, though, Danny? She was the best you could do?"

Danny looked at him blankly. I glared at Peter, wishing I could undo the past five minutes. "Please shut up."

Holding his hands up as though caught in some obscene crime, Peter backed away. He mimed zipping his mouth shut. "Just kidding! Heh, that was a joke, Em, don't take it literally!"

My hands balled themselves into fists, but I turned away and stormed inside. I managed to avoid Fury until the next morning. Needless to say, there was a huge argument. Fortunately for me, it was cut off prematurely by the realization of Nick that I needed to 'get my ass to school' lest I were to (oh, the horror!) play hooky again.

I barely slid into homeroom in time. Ava continuously asked me why I didn't show up yesterday, Sam congratulated me, and Luke seemed to be oblivious to my absence. By the end of the day, I felt exhausted. I was thankful that there was scarcely any homework that night; all I wanted to do was lay in bed and think of how great Danny's lips felt against mine. Unfortunately, Peter chose that evening to need help with the Living Laser.

"Maybe we can defeat this one _without _tearing up the city?" Ava suggested, landing gracefully.

"Eh, maybe we can't," Peter whined. "Put me down, Tiny." Luke let Peter fall to the ground, where he landed considerably less suavely than Ava.

"That's Power Man to you, Web Head."

"Whatever," Peter said, cracking his knuckles.

"Anyone read the wiki on bad eighties light show guy?" Sam rolled his eyes. Peter went into a long winded science-y explanation. Sam held up his hands. "Hold it. He's made of what?"

"Photons. That means he can..." Peter sighed as the Laser began to enlarge to tenfold his previous size. "... Yep. That means he can do that."

"I will fry you like bacon!"

A sudden blast from nowhere blew through the Laser, scattering his photons.

"What just happened?" Peter exclaimed. "I thought he was going to fry us like bacon. What is he, vegan?"

A loud boom resounded throughout the block. "There's that sound again," Ava said with a frown.

From the clouds appeared—of all people—Iron Man. Peter let out a little gasp, wide-eyed. "Awesome... Look at him over there! You know he built that armor himself? Like, in a cave, with a paper clip and some empty soda cans? BIG time genius."

"Somebody's got a man crush," Sam sang.

"What do you think they're, you know, talking about?"

"Probably some national security issues," Ava said. She crossed her arms as Peter walked forward to them, out of our range of hearing. "Seriously, Em, couldn't you just have absorbed that guy? I mean, light's energy, right?"

"Yeah, but I need _time_. As in, more than thirty seconds. You've gotta give me ten minutes or so to prepare myself—it's a complicated process, okay? All science-y and stuff. Ask Peter about the different forms of energy; he'll explain."

"I doubt that he's going to be explaining anything anytime soon," Ava scoffed, jerking her head at him. We approached Peter slowly, but he failed to notice our presence. "What is your _deal_?"

"Huh?" Peter blinked.

"Okay guys, I'm out of here," Iron Man said. His eyes passed right over me, as though I hadn't just seem him last week. He was almost as good of a liar as I was. "Hey, kid, I like your style—wardrobe notwithstanding. How about you visit the plant on Saturday? Maybe I can help you out." He took off. Something boiled in my stomach. Anger.

On Saturday, I had to go back to the infirmary for the treatment. It was simply more bad news.

"You've been going on missions, haven't you?" Connors shook his head at me.

I stared at the tile floor. We both knew the answer. It took everything I had not to break down right then and there. "I don't know what to do anymore."

He put a hand on my shoulder gently. "I think it's time to start telling the people close to you about this. Make arrangements. It... it might be the end," he said softly.

"The end?" I asked thickly. Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing the diagnosis. "It's never the end. I _can't _die."

"Everyone—"

"No! You don't understand." The tears ran down my cheeks, and I choked. "I physically _cannot _die. It's not humanely possible." Connors stared at me, bewildered. "I—I need to talk to Nick."

…**...**

An hour later, I left Nick's office. My cheeks were flushed with anger; I detested all of these misunderstandings. All at once, my knees shook, and I collapsed to the floor, screaming.

"_MOM!" I shouted, my voice hoarse. Happiness coursed through my veins, and a grin spread across my face. "WAIT UP!"_

_A hand snatched me from behind. He pressed a knife to my throat, laughing insanely. Dad's eyes widened in horror, and I made a terrified choking noise. _

"_Oh, sweetie, Deadpool won't hurt you!" he cackled. "Only k-word you, don't worry." His breath stank. My stomach churned angrily, when gunshots rang out from somewhere. My attacker tripped, and I stumbled away, into Dad's arms._

"_Dad..." My voice cracked, and I saw the red spreading across my blouse. Everything was fuzzy, I couldn't breath; it was complete agony. The last thing I saw was my dad crying, then everything stopped._

"Emma!"

"No," I mumbled. "Can't be dead... LILLY!"

Someone shook me roughly, but I pushed them away. Lilly couldn't be dead! No!

"Emmaline?" a boy whispered in my ear.

My eyes snapped open. "Danny?" I blinked; why was I in Danny's arms? Why were a few dozen armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents surrounding me, not to mention the entire team?

"Goddammit, Em," Ava shook her head. "What the hell?"

"Shut up, Ava," I snapped. They stared at me; I was rarely rude, preferring to keep my thoughts to myself. I tried to stand up without success—I was shaking too much to think straight, let alone do such a complicated thing as walk. Danny, though, was thinking sensibly as usual, and carefully lead me away. He set me down on my bed, and I struggled to remember what I had just seen.

Danny stroked my hair. I couldn't look him in the eyes; I knew he would see the guilt, betrayal, and dishonesty, amongst other unsightly things. He might have noticed the lingering tears or pain.

"I suck, Danny, I suck," I said, my voice trembling with disappointment. I bit my lip, savoring the salty tang of blood in my mouth. "This sucks, I suck. I need to get out of here. This isn't going to work anymore."

"What is not going to work anymore? The team?"

I shook my head professedly. "_This_. What I've been doing... I—I haven't been making the best choices, Danny. I haven't been telling you the truth..."

"Emma—"

"Danny, I—I don't know what to do anymore." So I told him about what I had been doing for Abby. I purposefully avoided talking about my Dreams, or my Other Life, and, most especially, Time, Vincent, Bereave, and the jobs that I had been doing for them. If the jobs had been for money, I would have told him—but it was unlikely that I would ever have done such things for money. For lives, yes; money, no.

He was a good listener as always, nodding at all the right places. At the end, when I had finished my explanation, he made his promise to me. An unbreakable promise. I wish I had known that Time was just playing with me, that we truthfully were all doomed. I wish that I had known that we were _both _dying, that the end was nearer than either of us thought. Most of all, I wish that Danny had kept his promise, because if he had, then many people's lives would have been saved.

**THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS:**

**leggo lover 99: =D Thank you!**

**TheOnyxDragon12: Yes, the theory will be further explained—wait, how is it a theory if it's proven? Then again, Time may be a liar (she certainly has the potential). As for Coulson & Wade, don't worry, they'll be in soon... Maria's about 2 months along.**

**Nerdy-Tomboy: ;-)**

**Hamster1000: Please.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-FFS**


	7. Bliss

**Chapter 7: Bliss**

"_**I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."**_

_**-Galileo**_

I wrung my hands, trying to stop tapping my foot. It was scarcely two hours after my little vision, and we were all waiting for Peter in the Court.

"We waiting?"

"For bug boy? Why?" Sam scoffed.

"Patience is a virtue."

"So is punctuality! Spider-Man's late, we train without him." Ava clenched her fists, ready to attack the approaching robots. "Court is now in session."

I closed my eyes, concentrating. One of the drones zapped me, but I easily absorbed the blow. I was tired, hungry for energy. It was simple to drain the couple of robots that bothered to approach me. Perhaps not the best method of improving one's skills, but I was in no mood for training.

"It's _wreaking _havoc," Ava said, rolling her eyes at Sam as we stood before the wreckage.

"So, let's put it to a vote. All in favor of changing our name to 'Team Nova' raise your hands." Sam lifted his own arm high in the air like a flag, but everyone else was too busy staring at Spider-Man.

He was in a red and gold suit, similar to Iron Man's, barely able to manage keep himself in the air. "Y-yes, you can believe your eyes people! Science has made what was perfect, even better. Don't worry, everything's cool. See, I'm operating on a new level you don't, _quote, _'comprehend'." Peter swerved from side to side, occasionally crashing into walls. I ducked as he flew over us, unable to control his new tec.

Three arms extended from the suit, the same way that Doc Ock's did. He managed to get them caught on a drone, which then began shooting beams at us. When Peter was finally able to stand up, he didn't look the least bit bewildered at the sheer amount of damage that he had caused; he actually had the nerve (or stupidity) to look smug. "How do you guys like me _now_?" Peter proudly crossed his arms.

"You suck," I said, storming out. The lights flickered, finally deciding to give their energy to me instead. Peter tripped over his foot, falling face first to the ground.

"Hey! I don't—" A loud crash interrupted him. I had lost my patience with the door, which seemed to be taking a millennium to open. It crumpled up from the sheer force of me slamming it.

"She is not in the best of moods," I heard Danny say. Footsteps followed me. I was embarrassed by my outburst, but more ashamed of my weaknesses. They haunted me, jeeringly shouting all of my worst fears.

My first instinct was to leave the Helicarrier, but even I knew that doing so would be dumb. Time would have simply managed to remember some duty that I had failed to fulfill. A cold metal hand touched my shoulder, and I slapped it away. "I mean it, Peter. You _suck_."

"But—" His sentence was cut short as he crashed into the nearest wall. I shook my head at him, retreating to my bedroom to beat up my pillows. Feathers drifted down lazily like snowflakes on a frosty day in December, tickling my nose. I pounded my fists against the mattress, letting myself sink into the steady rhythm of my breaths.

…**...**

Sunday. I visited Ali. She was actually awake for a few hours that day, which surprised me. Somehow, she was cheerful despite her situation. We talked about life in general; although my words were carefully chosen and picked bare, Ali was brimming with smiles and happy thoughts that seemed to reflect her true state of mind. I considered telling her about Nick's offer, but decided to postpone such news until my next visit. She made me give her a full report on 'Dan-Dan' as she jokingly called him for sake of anonymity. Despite having never met him, Ali regarded him above all other people, and thought quite fondly of him. Overall, for a seven year old who was on death's door, she was beautifully and naively joyful about the whole matter of life.

It was cruel that her hopes were so high. She was completely convinced that she would live, that she could and would get better. No one could deny that there was one reason that she was still alive: me. I was the only visitor she ever received, and I knew how dearly she looked forward to our weekly talks. Ali always had drawings to give me, and a pile of picture books resided on her bed stand. The white, sterile walls were covered in torn out pages from her National Geographic Kids magazines that the hospital provided. Nurses told me that she was brave soul, their favorite little patient.

That week I had brought her a toy dog, which she held close to her heart throughout my entire visit, sleepily waving his tiny black paw as I turned to say goodbye. Ali named him Lucky, because she said she was "lucky to have a friend". Tears welled up in my eyes when she said that; Ali had no friends her age, with only the hospital employees and I to keep her company. Before I left she had made me promise to bring 'Dan-Dan' to visit her soon.

Monday evening, Danny and I finally went shopping. As I pushed one cart and he another, I began thinking. Doubting myself. I didn't know how much longer I could juggle my mutation, Time's jobs, my friends, Ali, and S.H.I.E.L.D; I was starting to realize that this was truly taking a toll on me, from my health to my personal relationships. Yet I still told myself that if Abby could do it, then so could I.

"Hey, Danny, what veggies should we get?"

He glanced down at the very long list of foods. "A lot of everything, from the looks of it." Danny piled soup cans into the cart.

"Gosh, we go through a ton of food." I stared at the sheer quantity of stuff in the carts.

"We are only getting started, I am afraid," Danny chuckled.

"At least we don't have much homework..." I trailed off, staring at a poster on the wall. It screamed insults about mutants, superheros—how we all deserved to die, go to jail, that sort of thing—and it really hit home. I quickly busied myself with the list, struggling to ignore the guilt gnawing at my conscience.

Danny's soft eyes followed me. "How does yoga in the park sound?" he offered, his kindness mingling with the generous words. "I believe that there is a tomorrow."

"I—I can't," I said, unable to look at him. "I have some... family stuff."

"Emma... Can I not meet your family?" I whirled around to face Danny, and he gave me a lopsided smile.

"It's not like that... I'm not really in touch with many of them anymore, they just hate me, except for Ali... It's just my problem. Don't worry about it." I took a deep breath in and stared at the array of foods.

"Emma, once two men were out in the ocean in a boat. One of them began drilling in the bottom of the boat, and the other, aghast, said, '_What are you doing?!'_ And the first man replied, _'It's all right. I'm only drilling on my side.' _Do you understand what—"

"Yes," I said, cutting him off, "I do."

"Then it is time that I meet this Ali."

"Danny, she's..." I took a deep breath in. "She's dying to meet you."

…**...**

Looking back, my word choice was ironic and purposeful. I meant for them to have the hidden meaning, the dark connotation.

It was strange to walk to the hospital with another person. I felt oddly self-conscious around Danny that day, as if I was afraid of his rejection. Halfway there, I darted into the nearest candy shop and began searching the shelves for a new type of candy to bring. Danny wordlessly observed me, a solemn look on his face. After I had decided on a new flavor of gummy worms, I set the box of candy on the counter, digging through my pocket for a spare ten. Danny slapped a hundred on the counter to the utter bedazzlement of the clerk, and I followed him out of the shop.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, I felt a brief sense of familiarity. The cold lobby, filled with scratchy leather chairs, and the elevator stinking of cleaner; I had been through there countless times in the past year, and while the people changed, the building itself did not. I watched the other children waiting to see their brother or sister, the weary parents dashing from their jobs then their ill child and back to work again. I knew a bit of how they felt, absorbing some amount of their energies. They came and went; I was disheartened that the majority of visitors to the section of the hospital that Ali resided in seemed depressed, leaving in tears when bad news greeted them. It was mostly bad news around there. The entire point of this sector seemed to be to die within, not to heal.

Still, it was familiar, and once you have seen so many grieving families, it begins to blend together—or it should have. For me, each person was an individual who had the potential to make or break my day, stranger or not. I knew that I should not let my emotions and others' energies reign so much over me, but I couldn't help it; I was sensitive and empathetic by nature.

Danny seemed unaccustomed to such loss, though; for the first time, I saw uncertainty flicker across his face, before he regained control over his emotions. I knew what he was telling himself—all those philosophical, happy quotes about death being a new beginning, fresh path, all of that sort of Zen stuff that I had tried repeating as a sort of mantra. I knew that that sort of thing didn't work here. This was grief itself, and Danny was quite sensitive to energies. Not in the same way that I was, but close enough. He had training, and he was beyond experienced in Chi energy.

At least he had a kind of filter protecting him from the onslaught of emotion, but I felt the raw sadness in its untainted, pure state. I embraced it, letting it consume me, then pass right through. It was empowering in some ways, yet completely draining.

I stared at the neon green package in my hands, rubbing my fingers over the cardboard as though it were the Buddha's belly and would somehow grant me luck. A smiling nurse led us down the hallway to Ali's room, past the ugly wallpaper and cartoon posters. Inside, Ali was propped up by pillows, playing with Lucky.

Her hair was freshly washed, still a bit damp, and pulled back into a beautiful fishtail. I wanted to laugh at her adorable Curious George hospital gown—it was one of the only cartoons that she liked, and I had the distinct feeling that she had picked it out herself. When I saw her twinkling blue eyes and toothy grin, I could almost forget about all of the machines keeping her alive.

"Emmy!" she cried, throwing open her arms for a hug. I carefully embraced her, avoiding the tubes and wires with the air of one who has done so far too many times. Danny's smile was warm and welcoming to the child. Ali recognized him instantly even though she had never seen even a photo of him. "Dan-Dan!"

Danny threw me a questioning look, but I only shrugged in response, leaving it to him to fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Ali," I said softly. "Feeling better?"

"Yup, never been better!" she replied cheerfully. "You finally brought him!"

"Him?" Danny asked politely, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

"You!"

"Ah, I see. I am famous now." Danny sat down on the edge of the bed. A playful smile lingered on his lips, and I couldn't stop grinning.

"Did you come to bring me home?" Ali pleaded. He glanced at me, and I guiltily wrung my hands.

"Uh, Ali... about that..." I said uncertainly. I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this, to make this decision, but it was now or never. "Ali... I seriously think it's time to come home." Her eyes lit up, and relief flooded throughout me. "Be right back, okay? Just got to see how soon they'll let you leave." I dragged Danny back out.

For a moment, he stared at me like I couldn't possibly be doing this, as if I couldn't exist. Then he reached out and touched me on the cheek. "You are amazing."

I blushed. "No, Danny, I'm not." I took a deep breath in. "Ali's dying. She's not going to make it—she shouldn't even be alive. I'm buying her time, you know? Waiting for a cure, waiting like so many others. Nothing works. She's this innocent, naïve child. She doesn't have a family, just me. I'm bringing her home because she deserves to live the next few months with her only family, you know?" I shook the tears away. "This is so stupid. I wish I could trade places with her."

Danny lifted my chin up. "This is not your fault."

"She's _seven_, Daniel. Seven. Same age you were when you were an orphan. How did that feel? That loss is crippling to a kid like her. You know that firsthand. But you learned that you would become king, and she found out that she's going to die. Big difference. And look, she's smiling. Flipping _smiling._

"What am I supposed to do? You know, I'm the only person who comes to visit. She's been obsessed with meeting you. Says you're her idol, you're awesome, you're a _hero._ I say, _what about Spider-Man? The Avengers? Fantastic Four? _And Ali shakes her head. _No, I want to meet Dan-Dan. The rest of them just got superpowers, he earned this. _She actually said that."

What was Danny supposed to say? I had left him without any suitable quotes or tidbits of advice to give, only the barren truth.

That was why two hours later we were pushing a wheelchair out of the hospital. At every bird, every wrapper that was being blown by the breeze, Ali would start yelling. She loved being outside. In the sunlight, she seemed smaller, frailer, yet more alive. After a little while, she tired, and was soon fast asleep. Danny bought her a fuzzy puppy blanket and draped it over her. He was pulling the little cart with the oxygen tank and medications while I pushed the chair. It was strangely peaceful.

I think that's one of my favorite memories; the three of us walking through the Big Apple. Of course, I treasure all of my moments that I had with Danny, but that was one of my favorites. It still makes me want to cry, after everything that has happened. So many dead.

Nowadays, everything seems wrong. Back then, I was ignorant, and happy because of it. I mean, May shouldn't have had to die. That broke Peter's heart, that day. Same day that Danny almost bit the dust, except I was there to help him up again. Deadpool had no honor in doing her in—it was just plain cruel. He laughed at Peter's face, Peter's tears.

At least that didn't happen for a little while longer. Not until we found Luke's parents did things start to truly go wrong. I mean, it was then that I discovered that my Other Life really had happened.

But that day with Danny and Ali was wonderful.

Wednesday, unfortunately, wasn't so great. From the moment I woke, I knew something bad was going to happen. I dragged myself through the shower, all the way to school. I should have been happy after the night before, but bringing Ali to the Helicarrier had been hard for me. Hard to accept her diagnosis, hard to watch her sleeping little face and know that she would be dead within a year. Hard to come to the conclusion that I would have to bury this young soul, hard to realize that I couldn't save her.

You can't save everyone. That was the one thing I wish I had known at the time. It's one of those unfortunate truths. Peter has had it pounded into him, one thing after the other, but I failed to see it in spite of everything that I had experienced.

How could Ali never go to school? Not have any friends, never kiss that special boy, unable to graduate or go to college. She would never travel the world, never be like her precious Dan-Dan. She would never have the chance to be somebody. Ali would simply be the pitiful child who had her life cut short, remembered as a sweetheart who was constantly brave throughout her brief years.

Ali's sweet smile haunted me as I struggled with my stupid geometry. Halfway through first period, I was saved by 'detention'.

After the brief mission in which Peter managed to sabotage any chance of us defeating the dude who had done something or other that was wrong, Fury allowed us to return to the Helicarrier. I couldn't stop the relief from flooding through me as I walked into my room, ready to plop onto my bed—I was exhausted. There was a small problem, though.

Someone was already sitting on the bed.

…

Looking back? I can't believe that I fell for Brian's lie. I thought that he cared—after all, he saved my life countless times. Not to say that I loved him, because I never did, and believe me. Never is a strong word. I loved—love—Danny, but I always considered Brian in the same innocent way that I did when I first met him at the tender age of six.

I actually took that scum's words to heart. No matter how many times I tell myself that, I fail to accept it. I was blind. Of course he worked for Bereave! That was Bereave's whole thing, controlling the dead and all. Giving me that stupid curse.

When I left my bedroom the following morning, I had a hopeful outlook for the day. After another grueling mission in which Peter set half of the block on fire, though, I was basically drained. That was why when Danny invited me onto the roof of the Helicarrier 'for a moment', I figured that he was being his usual kind, thoughtful self.

I'd never been so happy before. It was a gorgeous ring, made of the purest silver that I had ever set my eyes upon. The band was swirly, intertwining with itself in numerous places, and cupped the stone in its intricate pattern. The stone was black opal, holding every color under the sun. It wasn't large or gaudy, and that was the way that I liked it.

The next morning, I woke up confused by the ring on my finger. _Why is that there? _Then the memories of the day before rushed back to me, and I grinned stupidly to myself. Everything felt so good like this, so completely, honestly perfect. My cheeks were flushed from smiling so much, and I wore a brightly colored yellow shirt that reflected my mood.

Luke winked at me on the way to breakfast. "He finally got up the courage, eh?" I didn't answer, just skipped over to the kitchen, pulling out the eggs, milk, sugar, flour, baking soda, and butter. I mixed the batter, humming to myself, and poured it in round circles on the pan. Flipping the pancakes onto a plate, I poured syrup over them, and set them in the center of the table for people to grab as they came. Luke snatched a large one, stuffing it in his mouth.

Sam walked in, sniffing the air. "Hey, I thought I was the cook around here!" He paused. "Not that I'm complaining—less work for me!" He stabbed a pancake with his fork, chewing loudly.

Ava frowned suspiciously at me. "Since when do you hum or make pancakes?"

"Since today!" I replied cheerfully, carrying another plate over to the table. She squinted at my hand, and her eyes widened.

"What the hell is that?!"

Luke leaned back in his chair casually, a knowing look in his eyes. Sam choked on his food, jumping up to get a better look at my hand. "Fat's wa wing!"

"_A ring_?!" Ava screeched.

Danny chose that moment to step into the kitchen, looking bewildered by the shouting. "What is all of the noise?" Ava leaped from her chair, shaking Danny by the shoulders.

"YOU ASKED HER?"

"Asked who what?" Danny feigned innocence.

"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"

"God, you're loaded now, Em," Sam nodded at me. I rolled my eyes.

"SHUT UP BUCKET BRAIN!"

"Jeez! Calm down, already," Sam said.

"AND SHE SAID YES?"

Danny's eyes were wider than I had even seen them before. "Y-yes..."

Ava gave him an enormous hug, squeezing the air out of him. "FINALLY!"

"W-wait, what?"

"So when's the wedding, Rand?" Sam grinned teasingly.

"Wedding?"

"Yeah, duh," Sam said. "You know, when it's all sappy and you say 'I do', and give her a big smoochie?"

"Um..."

"Please shut up," I requested sweetly.

"Uh, guys, hate to break it to you, but we're going to be late for school..." Luke trailed off.

"Shit!" Ava exclaimed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and running out the door.

"Do the two lovebirds need a ride?" Sam sang. Luke punched him in the shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?"

At school, nobody seemed to notice, not even Peter—which made sense, because I wasn't an outgoing person, and when you added that to the fact that almost no one knew that I had ever been on a date, let alone been in a serious relationship.

It wasn't a big surprise that Danny had proposed; we had long since decided on the entire K'un L'un affair. Besides, the monks rarely approved a relationship, and he could only have dated someone if he was serious about marriage. They believed in 'one true love', and so did I.

Nothing could have spoiled my mood that day. Nothing. I felt perpetually happy. And I had every right to be joyful—and being joyful included a lot of kissing.


	8. Somewhere In Between the

**Chapter 8: Somewhere In Between the Beginning and the End**

"_**Maybe there's something you're afraid to say,**_

_**Or someone you're afraid to love,**_

_**Or somewhere you're afraid to go.**_

_**It's gonna hurt.**_

_**It's gonna hurt because it matters."**_

_**-John Green**_

Another day, another job. Maybe if it had been a different job, I would have been fine, but I couldn't do this. I couldn't.

Yet I found myself that close. My knife was _that_close, pressed against the scum's chest. Shea wasn't the least bit afraid—her heart didn't pound, her lips weren't quivering; she must have known that I wouldn't do it as she stared me down. Her black-brown eyes were too _human, _too deep, and all too familiar for me to extinguish the light within them on such a whim of Bereave's.

They called me weak. I was weak, it is true. But not because I refused to kill. I was weak because I had considered killing for even the blink of an eye, the length it took to draw a single breath. I was weak for giving in to Bereave, Kris, and Time.

Trust was a major issue for me, let's say. In case you haven't figured that out by this point. Still is, for that matter. Seriously, though, think about it.

I didn't tell anyone about my _jobs_. Or my family. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't know, because technology was faulty around me, and I had actually threatened Fury. He didn't take it seriously at first, but people learn quickly that there are certain things that they simply cannot control.

Not even Danny knew. I most certainly had not breathed a word to Ava, Sam, or Luke, let alone the web brain. Ava was a friend, that was it. Sam was a bystander. Luke watched me, and I think that he probably had the best idea of what was going on, when you consider his past. Danny knew something was up.

I waited too long to tell him what that something was.

He thought it was Ali or another issue of that nature. Helping people, you know? Halfway there. Not quite, though.

To think that I hadn't even faced the truth about Time yet, and my life was already that messed up. I was extraordinarily valuable at that point. What can I say? I'm powerful without Time or the curse or the prophecy. Add that to my lifestyle (which isn't what you'd call calm and relaxing), and you may as well write _VILLAIN _across my forehead.

What am I? I have no idea.

At that particular moment, I was weak. Like I said before, revenge wasn't my downfall. Nor was my downfall anything villainous or heroic or plain. It was something that only my family could have thought of. Too bad that my family suck. Except for Ali, of course.

Back to the original subject. Getting sidetracked.

I missed a lot for that failure. I didn't stick around to see Time's reaction, or Bereave's, but I didn't need to see them to know what they'd do. By sparing Shea, I had just doomed my real family—my friends.

They had never failed to depict the suffering that would ensue in the event of my failure. Kris was especially detailed on the torture of Danny; as our relationship grew, so did the gruesome tales. Danny was about as innocent as a boy his age got, if you know what I mean. He was the most deserving person that I knew, so unselfish and good and—

Yes. I was in love. Still am. And that's what makes me cry so much, because how can I still love him?

Tell me, have you ever really loved someone? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I doubt that you could comprehend his suffering when renowned empaths cannot.

You know that feeling? Guilt? Yes, I'm sure. Well, multiply the worst that you've felt by a trillion and two, and you've got one percent of a perspective on how I felt.

I was just playing. I knew that. Like an actress, only living her part; I could never be Ergo, nor Emma. I would always be Emmaline Carlson, Hayat Ruh. Destined for greatness, they all said. None of them bothered to help me up when I was six years old and bleeding to death on my mum's cold tile floors. The only people who ever loved me were Ali, Luke, and Danny. They were my family, my only family.

Six months wasn't a very long time. Not at all. But, really, it was. Ali got better then worse, I fell in love, and met new people. There are certain people who creep into your heart, dare to swim in those dangerous waters, then lay anchor there. Beach themselves. Except once they're there, they can't leave. They're stuck, like a splinter, but more a part of you than your fingers or legs or arms, or anything else. They're not you, they are more than that.

Others stay for awhile. Wave from the horizon. You can't really see them from there, though. Empaths are the sort of people with really cool telescopes and binoculars who see them waving, and understand. The rest of you may as well be blind to each other, fumbling and groping in darkness. You drag each other down. Is it not much better to sacrifice yourself so that others may love?

I was never a sacrifice, exactly. I was more of a plot twist that authors throw in just to make the readers cringe. Like Rogue back at Xavier's, I couldn't touch anyone—until Danny.

He was the hero that everyone loves and roots for. Innocent, caring, kind, compassionate, brave, fearless—no, he was perfectly imperfect, beautifully flawed, wrong in all the right ways. We fit like two puzzle pieces, or a lock and a key; we clicked into place like our hearts were shaped by cookie cutters instead of life, unchanging in their own glorious ways, when we were only human.

Neither of us seemed human to others. Danny had such a unique perspective and acceptance of life that nobody tried to understand, making light of meaningful words. I was something that shouldn't have existed and was liable to kill them all, a ticking time bomb who actually cared an awful lot about those random strangers.

No, S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't understand us, however much they may have pretended to. We were as much hostages as we were guests. "Free will" was only a politically correct way of telling us that we were bound by chains that others had wrought simply to cut into bare skin and restrict the flow of life.

I was ashamed, miserable. How could I have done that? These weren't choices, they were traps! I hated myself.

You know what, though? We were still alive the next morning. Everyone. Yes, I was buying time. No, I did not have any idea what I was messing with.

I was being an ignorant person, just like everyone else. That gives me no excuse, as simply because other people have done the same—well, that is no reason to do something at all. Hitler caused the Holocaust, but you should not make the same mistake and claim innocence because 'he did it'. There is no such _valid _excuse for treachery.

It was that morning, though, that I realized something. Something important.

I had been looking past all of the other people. Those little lives. People that came and left before I could blink; I didn't want to say goodbye. Something was going to happen. I didn't want to accept it. Life was passing me by, but even worse was that I didn't care. There was something bigger going on here—I just knew it.

I hate being right.

All of these other lives. They belonged to people, and I had plucked the stars from their skies as if the very sun were mine. Pretending that I ruled the universe, when my meager throne did not even extend past our weakened solar system.

Everyone talks of the stars. Distant, far away, beautiful. Yet no one sees the star we have right here, at home. We call it another name, as if that should demean its power and might, its glory.

I was one of those people. Being lead along like a lost puppy begging for love. Begging for life. And I hate that I did that. I won't say that I hate myself, but rather that the deed was terrible. Wasn't it Gandhi himself that said _Hate the sin, love the sinner_? Something like that.

There was something that I had to do.

…

Now, I didn't have any duties at the time; I never had before. Most certainly did I have _responsibilities_, but those differ from your duty. Nearly everyone else that I knew had a duty in some way, shape, or form. Danny had to fulfill his role as the king. Even Lilly had her duties.

Has she grown up since them. My God. The title 'princess' does not—can not—describe her. She molds the throne to her taste without dishonoring it in any way; instead, she expands the horizons, so to speak, and brings new light to heaven on earth.

I stooped down, touching a small puddle. The city wasn't so grand after all, although the people more than made up for it. What had I expected? I knew the brutal honesty of the real world that parents want to shield their children from for as long as possible.

At night, the buildings loomed over me, threatening to devour the inhabitants. The paved streets were often quite damp and glistened in the bright lighting. Each corner was like life itself; hiding its secrets behind closed doors. Sometimes I thought that the neon signs made the city less dark than in the daytime; they tried to make themselves seem larger-than-life with their loud color tones and insistent humming.

The entire place stank. I hated that smell. It made me feel nauseous. I slid my shoes off and deposited them in my bag, slinging it over my shoulder like an old sack. Then I undid the tie that bound my unruly waves of hair into the braid and let it tumble down my back. Brown locks fell in my face, and I let them stay there, a curtain between the world and I.

My enormous spectacles slid down my nose, and I pushed them back up far enough that my lashes brushes against the lenses. I yanked my sweatshirt off and chucked it in the bag; I only donned a tank top, the wind biting against my bared flesh. My skirt swished around my ankles. As a final precaution, I tucked a barn owl's feather into my hair and hid my pendant from view. The last thing I needed was anybody recognizing the famous stone on the chain, or its engravings.

Blood speckled the pavement. This was the place.

It was a modern skyscraper. The elevator ride seemed long and drawn out to my impatient young mind. As I made my way to the office at the end of the hallway, sobbing echoed from one of the room. True to my stupid nature, I peeked around the corner. Ever curious.

A girl, likely around twelve or so, was keeled over on the ground. Her light brown hair was tangled and hung in desolate ropes around her face, dampened by tears. Pools of blood framed her figure, making her seem even more doll-like and surreal. White feathers lay on the floor, scattered here and there around the room. She was in a white sundress—strange for this time of year, but that was not the terrible thing.

Presented in front of her were a pair of broken, bloodstained _wings._

…

My hands shook the next morning, both from lack of sleep and from—the other reason. I was beginning to realize that I hardly trusted some of these people. Why did I even stay here?

Danny, for one. Mostly Danny. Yet he would be leaving quite soon...

Ali.

And, of course, S.H.I.E.L.D. They could hardly muster up the courage to allow me to interact with people on a daily basis—forgetting, of course, that they did not own me. I was no toy for them to play with, and nor was I a weapon.

That was really it?

I needed to move on. Strangely, amongst the whispers of concern, I wanted to leave all of this behind.

Were Sam, Ava, Peter, and Luke really my friends? I cared about them. I wanted to save everyone. 'No' is not an option for me. I suppose that I am stubborn in that way.

Typically, that was a bad time to be having this train of thoughts; as I walked into the kitchen (if you could call it that), Ava and Sam turned on me.

"Where the hell were you last night?!" Ava's brown eyes flashed with anger.

"Yeah—"

I cut Sam off. "Please. Just leave me alone."

He managed to look offended. "What do you mean, '_leave you—_"

My watch began beeping. Nick's face appeared on the screen. "Get your ass down here right now."

"Ooo, busted!" Sam did a brief little jig on my behalf. I rolled my eyes in annoyance, and shut off the watch. "Wait, what? Since when do you hang up on Fury?"

"Since today, Bucket Head," Ava snorted.

_Whatever. _Without another word, I took off down the hallway. Coulsen was waiting for me.

"You do realize that whenever you call me here, it's only bad news? More rules, more restrictions? Nothing helps. Just leave me alone."

Phil gave me a tight-lipped smile. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Carlson."I glowered at him. "What? A new drug? Get a clue: _it won't work._"

"No, Miss Carlson. I'm afraid that your little contract has expired."

Something inside of me seized up. "Contract? What contract?" My insides felt frozen, and my empty words echoed through my mind as if it were a hollow cave.

Phil looked at me. For the first time, I thought I saw pity mingled in his often impenetrable eyes. "You are property of the government. You have to realize, you're a lethal weapon." He ruffled through a stack of papers. "Far too many things could go wrong. We had a deal, and you broke our agreement. It's through."

I stared at him. "_You _broke the deal," I said, the world blurring. "I never did anything! _You _promised to help me. But you're only a bunch of liars, like the rest of them."

"Miss Carlson—"

"NO," I continued. Strangely, I felt utterly calm. "Liars. Just like Xavier, Magneto, Time, HYDRA, Doom—there's no real difference." I stood and walked out of the room. Nobody stopped me; it was like I was invincible. Or maybe just invisible.

Nobody cared when I walked right out of the Helicarrier. The streets of New York were oblivious to my presence, to my complete horrendousness. It was like I had nothing to lose, for those brief minutes. Until everything crashed back down on me. I had responsibilities, duties.

Ali needed me. And I needed Danny. I hated having that reliance on someone, hated having only him to hold on to, but I didn't have a choice.

I slid down against a brick wall in a lonely ally. The darkness loomed overhead, and I put my head between my knees. After a while, somebody tapped me on the shoulder, so I looked up. Peter's eyes met mine.

"Uh, hey… I didn't know it was part of the S.H.I.E.L.D. job description to hang around in dark allies…" I didn't say anything, so he continued, "Why are you here?" His eyebrows arched comically up in such a bewildered manner that I almost cracked a smile.

"Why are you here?"

"Well, uh, to be honest," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and peering around the corner, "I'm sort of hiding from Flash. The guy who shoved me in the locker."

Any other person would have asked him why he—a superhero—was hiding from an ordinary kid, but I already understood. To the most basic point, that was what I was doing right now. So I simply nodded. Before Peter could say anything else, I stood up.

"Mind if I ask why you're wearing that?"

"Wearing what?"

"That." He pointed at my oversized shirt that hung past my knees.

I shrugged. "Why not?"

"Hey, where're you going?"

Again, I shrugged. "Nowhere. Just walking. You can follow me if you like." Peter quickly caught up to me. It began to drizzle, and the sky turned grey.

"So, where's nowhere, exactly?"

"You should know better than to ask that question," I mumbled. "Nowhere is anywhere, and anywhere is everywhere."

"Wait, what?"

"Never mind." I stared at the sidewalk. Strangely, I felt like I was being watched. "Whaddya think of your team?"

It was Peter's turn to shrug.

"There was once a girl, you know," I said, halting in front of a closed shop. The windows were darker than the sky above us. "She first dreamed of leaving home, for adventure. Her mother had sought a home for all of her life, and her father had built them one. Then danger came, and with danger, adventure tends to follow.

"So she and her mum fled. They fled to the city, where the girl found she did not like it. All she wanted was to return home. Fate laughed, and Time found her in a lonely house with her parents' friends, abandoned. But she never called herself abandoned. She waited.

"One day her father came for her. To bring her home. But then, that very same day, he was killed. Murdered. Her mother tried to find her, and died in the process. The girl became rich, famous, an adventurer. But the one place she couldn't find was the place she grew up.

"The faint memories haunted her. So you know what she did?" I paused, kicking a pebble. "Do you know where she went?" Peter shook his head. "Nobody does. But she's going the same place I am."

"And where would that be?"

"Somewhere only we know."

Peter jerked his head at me and shivered. "You sure know how to tell freaky stories."

I opened my mouth, about to respond, then shoved Peter to the ground, jumping. For a moment, I seemed to fly, floating in midair, but then I tumbled to the ground.

"What the heck?" Peter's face floated above me. "What was that about?"

I smiled, feeling nauseated. Then my hand unfolded, like a flower blossoming. There, in the palm of my hand, was the blade, clutched between my bleeding fingertips. The world seemed to be spinning, around and around. "Gotta go," I mumbled, shoving my way into the crowd. I disappeared, and the only trail I left behind was that of the blood dripping from my hand.

And it wasn't mine.


	9. And No One Said A Word

Chapter 9:And No One Said A Word

"What I don't understand is how a person can tell you so many lies and never feel bad about it."

-Anonymous

The girl stared at me. Her dirty blonde hair hung about her shoulders, and dull grey eyes watched my every move. She must have been in her early twenties, maybe late teens, because she looked youthful, although she did carry a certain sensation of maturity with her. "Hayat Ruh." Her voice was grating, like sandpaper to my ears.

Nick Fury had called us up to the roof of the Helicarrier at two in the morning- all of the team, including Peter. What did I expect? It's been an entire day already... I wonder which assassin she sent this time. Then, of course, I realized the full significance of the situation: stand and fight or flee and die. I couldn't leave.

No, I was trapped. What I really wanted to know was if the team would stand by me.

I wanted them to be safe. I wanted them to leave. I wanted Time to forget their names and faces, let them live their lives. I wanted Sam to land that date with MJ. I wanted Peter and Ava to tell each other their feelings. I wanted Ava to find her sister. I wanted Sam to find out what had happened to his family. I wanted Luke to accept his parents' deaths. I wanted Danny to be king. I wanted Danny to move on and leave me to die. I wanted them to forgive themselves.

But I didn't.

Like most people, I am selfish. I wanted to believe they would fight to the death by my side. A silly fantasy I dismissed immediately...

I took a deep breath in. "Where's Ali?"

Taipan smiled mischievously. "With her dear Uncle Octavius," she replied seamlessly in a thick Russian accent.

My heart quivered. I can't be nervous now, I scolded myself. Not now of all times. I set my shoulders and stepped forward. "Then I'm guessing you're-you're here for me?"

"Wait- no..." Sam's voice died away like a soft desert breeze. Ava's eyes bored into the back of my head, and I could feel the anger radiating from her. I took another step towards Taipan.

Danny's face fell, his muscles going slack. He slipped the yellow bandana from his head. First something kind of like disappointment and confusion, then sorrow and betrayal mingled in his eyes. I had seen him sad before-no, I had seen him broken, yet this was worse. As if I had shattered his trust.

A single tear slid down his cheek.

He never cried. Danny had felt the stab of grief many times, but the last time he had truly cried was the day his parents were murdered.

I gave Taipan one last look, then spun on my heels and ran to Danny. Slipping it from my sleeve, I crashed into Danny's arms. He gripped me tightly for an eternity, and I savored the warm tingling spreading throughout my chest. The world was bright and colorful; fairly blurry, though the stars still shone through my hazy stupor.

Reeling back, I smiled at Danny one last time. I pressed my hand to my heart, the warm blood clinging to my fingertips, and touched his solar-plexus. A red handprint glimmered on the dragon emblem. My breath caught in my throat, and I struggled with it for a moment before blowing Danny a kiss goodbye.

He didn't let me go until the very end, when everything was gone, the pulse of life coming to an abrupt halt, and even then he still loved me. We never parted, even at Death's First Kiss and Life's Final Breath.

\/

A/N: So glad to be back! Thank you all so much for the support. :) :) :) Lovin' the new profile pic BTW leggo lover 99. ;-) Thanks for the commentary (love how you're always questioning everything) TheOnyxDragon12! And thank you for the inspiration Nerdy-Tomboy!

Hoping to update again soon,

Scribbles


	10. Amongst the 'Did's and the 'Do's

**Chapter 10: Amongst the 'Did's and the 'Do's**

**_"And in the end, we were all just humans..._**

**_Drunk on the idea that love,_**

**_Only love,_**

**_Could heal our brokenness."_**

**_-F. Scott Fitzgerald_**

Laughable. It was insanely, unreasonably, impossibly, ironically _hilarious. _

I mean, look at me now. Telling a story, calling it brand new, when really, in a seemingly short period of time that will pass all too quickly, it will be an old tale, told far too many times for anyone to care about it anymore. The waters of time can either polish the rough stone or erode away those it feels are too this or that.

Of course I awoke only a moment later, but my brain was drunk on the darkness of the end, unable to focus on the world of the living. In the time it took to gather my wits, a lot happened. And when I say a lot, I do mean a lot.

A whole lot.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIII

I took a deep breath in and opened my eyes. An opaque blue dome spanned over me, 16.18 feet high and 1.618 meters wide. The dome pulsed with blue light, and a web of words were scrawled across it. Danny stood across from me, maybe a foot away.

A series of beams of light spread across the half-sphere, forming something similar to a wheel stood near the point where they crossed; the only thing between us was a small piece of printer paper, folded into a square. I stooped down and clenched it in my fist. Danny's green eyes rested on me for a moment; he embraced me, and I buried my face in his chest. A moment later we stared into each others' eyes. He caressed my hair, and gently removed the paper from my fingertips.

Danny carefully unfolded it. The creases divided the sheet into nine squares. One line of a riddle was written in the first eight boxes, but the ninth was blank, as if waiting for an answer. The handwriting was bold and large, in black paint that said:

_I see much but change little,_

_I am firm, irresolute,_

_Powerful but gentle,_

_I can rip apart mountains,_

_Yet be moved by gentle stirrings,_

_I am valued and wasted,_

_I am life itself,_

_And I give life to others._

I tore it away, crushing it in my hands. "No," I shook my head. "Not now." My breath caught in my throat, and I could hear the soft hum of energy around me. I glanced down at myself, and my stomach sunk when I saw the blue vines and glowing runes running up my arms.

Danny grabbed my wrist. "We can work this out. It will be fine."

"Fine?" I choked. "_Fine?_ What just happened is _fine_?"

"Will be," he said, giving me a reassuring squeeze, "It will be. Hopefully you will not have to do that again; it should not become habitual to stab yourself, right?" A bit of an accent was slipping into his speech; the letters faded into one another, becoming more like birdsong than words.

It was meant to be a joke, I knew, but still- it stung. I twisted my hair between my fingertips. Abruptly, I whirled around, and slammed my fist against the half-sphere of pulsing energy. It vanished.

"Where?" he asked simply.

"The team," I muttered. "They'll need it."

Stepping out into the still-intact 77th street (where we had apparently fallen), I couldn't help but wonder. Wonder what would happen when Danny fulfilled his promise. It wasn't a question of if he would keep it, but when his labors would bear fruit to a new world.

For me. It was all for me.

...

Needless to say, there was no sense of normalcy after that. Nobody could remember much, but the team managed to recall rushing up to the Helicarrier at two in the morning at Fury's call, then suddenly waking up in their beds.

_Fill in the blanks, _Brian told me. I ignored him. What use could a dead man be, after all?

Well, as they say, hindsight _is _20/20.

_Lilly's POV, present_

I stare. "You mean I have a brother?"

"A brother and a sister." Her voice breaks, and she has to take a deep breath in before continuing. "Lynus and Willow."

"Lynus." The word tastes awkward, tumbling from my tongue like it doesn't belong. "Willow." These two syllables have a warmer, homey feel, somewhat familiar, as if I knew them at one time.

She nods, gulping back her tears, and I am reminded of how strange it is to see my own mother so weak. She is transparent, like a holographic image, flickering between a nineteen year old girl and a thirty year old woman. "Find them."

**MMMM**

_'_

**_A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS SOOOO MUCH! HINT: MORE REVIEWS=FASTER UPDATE!_**


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